Alliance
by Nutella-in-a-bowl
Summary: Sarah is an English Orphaned girl, whose mind was edited by Abstergo. She now remembers her past, but she continues struggling to negotiate with the Pieces of Eden, and the Animus. She discovers the horrors of her parent's deaths, and to make things worse, Becca and Shaun want to find a more powerful POE-The Hourglass. As old faces come along to help, more battles are to be fought.
1. Old Faces

**A/N Hello those who've joined us from Child of None! If you haven't….go read it. Now.**

**But anyway- yes, this is the sequel of 'Child of None'. Please give this story love and review. I need opinions to make this story better! Thanks,**

**- Smeggi.**

* * *

"Hey, Anna!" I called, "Hang on! Wait up!"  
My mentor and friend laughed, "You'll have to catch up with me, Kirsty!"  
I was surprised the woman was so agile, even in her mid-fifties. She could run, that was for sure.

I sprinted up the hill to catch up with her, my years of training not deceiving me. The air was cool today, which was a good thing, because I hated running in the heat.

I kept my breathing even as I ran alongside with Anna. I smiled, enjoying the outstanding country side. I inhaled the scent of grass. I liked that smell. Grass. I don't know why. The smell of grass is always so fresh. I suppose I like fresh things: Fresh coffee, fresh fish, fresh water from the tap…

We were now running by a river. I loved that river. It flowed not too quickly, the colour was almost clear, revealing the grey pebbles that sat at the bed.

"We can have a break, now," said Anna, suddenly stopping, breathing softly. How could she not be exhausted?

"We must have run about three miles!"  
"Mm-hm, and we're not even halfway."

My jaw could have dropped,  
"You've been hard on me lately, Anna."  
"Have I?" the elder woman smirked, "I hadn't noticed."

Life hasn't really been easy on me, either. My parents were murdered when I was nine, and my sister was taken from me. I've never really been good at making new friends, so my younger sister was the most I'd ever had. She kept me company. I used to love combing her silky black hair, and plaiting it into different styles. I was just a kid then, though. Full of imagination, and wonder towards the world.

I hate remembering that awful night when my parents were killed. I hate to remember that my sister was taken. I'm not surprised if she's dead, or worse, a Templar. Even at my age of twenty five, memories haunt me. They come to me as nightmares every night, each time worse than the last. I can't help but wake up panting and sweating:

_People burst into the house. _

"_Kristy, look after your sister," instructed Mom, quickly dashing out of the room. I clung onto my younger sister in my bed, as she started whimpering. Our breathing increased as the smash of glass was heard._

_There was shouting, and screaming, and grunting. The sound of gunshots filled the house.  
"Kirsty…" whined Christy, burying her head into my chest..  
"I know, I'm scared too," I clung tighter onto her. _

_I winced as I heard Mom scream. And then a bump. I heard Dad shout a 'No' before he, too, fell to the ground._

_The footsteps pounded up the stairs, and our bedroom door burst open. Three men walked through, all wearing hoods, and all wearing headscarves. All holding a weapon._

"_Please don't take my sister," I begged.  
"Grab the girls!" barked the tallest one. _

_I held tightly onto Christy as one of the men grabbed her arm.  
"No!" I screamed, "No! Christy!"  
"Kirsty!"_

_Now all that linked us were our hands.  
"No! Let her go!" _

_He snatched Christy out of my grip, and were already dragging her off. Another man followed them.  
"Kirsty!" Christy shouted from down stairs.  
"Christy!"_

_She was gone. And it was my turn to follow. The remaining man made a grab for me, but then he froze, eyes wide. His hand went to his neck, and when he touched his skin, blood poured from an open wound. He fell next to me. I let out a shriek-he was dead._

_I looked up. A woman was standing there, a kind expression on her face, a bloody knife in her hand . _

"_It's okay, dear," she said, soothingly, dropping the knife, "I'm here to save you."  
"But what about my sister?" I asked, "I want Mommy and Daddy! I want Chirsty!"  
"I'm…sorry, but…she's already gone. But…I'm here to help you."  
"Help me?" I said, "How?"  
"Do you recognise this symbol?" she pulled out her necklace, showing a sort of decorative arrow.  
"Yes. The Assassin insignia. Mom and Dad always talk about it."  
I've always loved those words 'Assassin insignia.'  
"Yes," said the woman," Your parents were Assassins. And that makes you an Assassin. My name's Anna. I'm an assassin, as well."  
"But…but Assassins kill people!" I protested, "I don't kill people."  
"They kill for the good. One life, can save many others."_

After that, she took me to a place called 'The Farm.' That placed changed my life, and I owe it all to Anna.

"Kirsty!" snapped Anna, "Quit day-dreaming!"

I darkened. Anna was my mentor, and that meant she could control me, like I was her kid. I am not a kid- I'm twenty five, for fuck's sake. I'm a freakin' Assassin. I'm not a Novice. No. I'm not an Elder, either, but I'm what's called a minnow. I have no idea why it's called a minnow, and why sometimes the ranks are named after animals, but that's the way it is.

The first time Anna told me I was a 'Minnow', I was offended. Minnows are tiny little pathetic creatures. As it turns out they're also cunning. In the Farm, there are about four Minnows, which is quite impressive, seeing as there's less than one hundred of us.  
"Come on!" called Anna, already ahead of me, sprinting down the riverside.

Shit, I thought, stay awake, Kirsty. No day -dreaming. There's no Doctor Who to take you back in time to change the past.

* * *

I flopped down into the sofa of our small house.  
"Can you tell me something, Anna? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while…"  
"Hm?" she looked up from her book.

"Why the fuck am I a fish?"

Anna stared at me,  
"Excuse me?" she said, laughing a little.  
"Why am I a Minnow? A fish that's regularly used as bait?"

Anna smiled,  
"Minnows are clever. For instance, the European Minnow can swim in a mix of waste and water. Its gills filter out the waste. Different types of Minnow has its own tricks .I've noticed in yours, and the other Minnow's training, that you have tricks up your sleeves."  
"Yes…but why a fish?" I asked, "Why not a lion…or a jaguar, or, I don't know, a cow?"  
"A cow? Really, Kirsty, now what good does a cowdo rather than fart, provide as food, and produce milk?"  
I sniggered. She had a point.

"But still, Anna, a fish…" I said, "C'mon, woman. Fish. Weird, slimy, fishy -smelling creatures that swim all day."  
"You'll thank me some day."

"I bet I will. You're usually right."  
"Mm-Hm."

She went back to reading her book.

I stepped upstairs, and to my room, and collapsed onto my bed. The farm was a lot more peaceful since Desmond Miles ran away almost ten years ago. He was forced to be my training partner.

He'd use to laugh every time someone said the word 'Templar' or 'Assassin'….which was usually every day. Oh God, his laugh was so annoying. No…Desmond was just plain annoying. Always playing around, never taking it seriously. Yes, he'd do his training, as a kid, but he'd always get distracted. When we were ten, he kept pulling at my pigtails, then climbing to the roof of one of the Farm Member's houses, he'd say 'you can't catch me', but I always did. I was always better than Desmond at everything: Running, sparring, swimming- even at the lectures, I'd get more 'points' than he did. He hated the training, but he was a boy. Competitive. Didn't like to admit defeat. I made him, though. I'd hold him over the edge of a river and say,  
_"You ready to loose, yet, Des?"_

"_No! Not yet…" he'd reply. I would hold his head closer to the water,  
"How 'bout now?" I'd ask.  
"Okay…fine… You win this one…"_

I sort of miss him now. Sort of.

Before he ran away, I'd caught him packing, and asked him where he was going.  
_"Away from this hell hole," he told me.  
"You can't leave, Desmond," I said, blocking the doorway out.  
"I can. I'm sixteen. Now get out of my fucking way."  
He tried to shove me out of the way, but I stayed put, shoving him backwards.  
"No," I said, folding my arms.  
"Yes!" He tried again, and succeeded. He ran out of the door, quicker than I'd ever seen him run.  
"BILL! DESMOND'S RUNNING AWAY!" I screamed, at the top of my voice.  
"WHAT?" was the response. _

Bill ran after Desmond, and so did his wife, calling his name. I stood, watching a familiar shadow in the nearby forest get further, and further away.

There were good memories with that kid. When Desmond was fifteen, his baby cousin (a second cousin, I think) was born while Emily and James were visiting Bill and the family.

She was a tiny little creature, short blonde hair, little wrists, but a really loud voice and a short temper. She'd start screaming and punching the air for attention. I was one of the first few people of the farm to see her. I was fifteen at the time. But I could never remember the kid's name. Sandra? Sara? Zara? Something like that.

I thought Desmond would turn his nose up at her, but he didn't. He was…how do I say it…'cuted out'by her? He stared at her, smiling, while she gurgled happily in his arms, her hands reaching out for his face, pulling his nose. I was confused at the time. Why was Desmond Miles so memorized about his new family member? I mean yeah, she was cute…okay, adorable, but to me, she was just a normal baby.

I yawned. Thinking too much makes me sleepy, I thought smugly, making my way over to my set of draws, and pulling out my pyjamas.

I climbed into bed, and tried to get some sleep.  
"Oh, and we're going to New York with Damien and Diego! G'night, Anna!"

Wait- what? What do we have to go to New York for? I sighed. I'll ask in the morning.

* * *

The morning came slowly. By the time I was awake, Anna was packed, and Damien and Diego stood in the living room, both holding identical backpacks.

"Oh hey, Damien, hey Diego."  
Damien looked tired, and his fluffy hair stuck out more than usual.  
"'morning, Kirst,", he yawned, before turning to his brother, "Y'know, Di, we didn't have to get up at five…"  
"-Well…if we wanted to get ready in time…"  
"-But look, Brother, Kirsty's not even dressed- oh wait, she is…sorry, Kirst."  
I rolled my eyes,  
"It's okay, Damien."

And then….we were all in a car on the way to New York.  
"So what exactly are we doing in New York, Anna?" I asked, at last.  
"We're getting some Data for Becca and Shaun, from Abstergo."  
"Oh."  
There was silence after that. Shaun and Rebecca? I hadn't seen those two in ages…Last I heard, they were staying at Bill's. Does that mean Desmond'll be involved, too? And what about Desmond's cousin- would she be there too? I mean, her parents were killed…like most of us, so where else would she go?

Damien interrupted my thoughts by chatting excitedly. I didn't catch what it was about, but Diego did,  
"Dammy, calm down," he said, "There's literally nothing to get excited about. Seriously- you're a grown man-"  
"-Yeah, but at heart, he's a kid, Di," I said. Diego snorted,  
"True that."

* * *

We had to drop Diego and Damien at their hotel, even though we needed to sneak into the Abstergo building. They said they'll meet us there.

Anna and I would be staying at Bill's, but first things first- we had to get to the Abstergo building. That would be a problem. There were men in suits and earpieces standing all around, a belt on their hips, presumably carrying a gun.

Anna drove past the building. It looked like a big office, almost, but all the windows were blocked with a black covering. Damien and Diego would have to get into the building whilst Anna and I distracted the guards. Pfft. Piece of Cake.

Anna parked the car, and luckily, there was a row of cars, so we could hide behind those. She a stone, which got their attention,  
"HEY!" she shouted, "TEMPLAR FREAKS. OVER HERE. WE'RE ASSASSINS!"

The men in suits walked towards us. Diego and Damien sneaked around, and climbed over a locked gate leading to the entrance of the building.

That was Damien and Diego sorted…but Anna and I were being pointed at with guns. Anna got into a fighting stance, and instructed for me to do the same. A punch was aimed for my jaw, but I dodged, grabbing my attacker's fist, and twisting it around painfully.

Then, something distracted the Templars. My attacker dropped down dead, a knife jammed in his back. A small figure sprinted down the road, follow by a taller one-also bringing death to an Abstergo member. Alarmed, the remaining men in black followed the figures.

"Rest in peace," whispered Anna to the corpses.

"What. The fuck. Just happened?" I said.  
Anna smiled, "That would be the reinforcements."  
I let out a chuckled,  
"Oh, Anna, you are full of surprises, old lady."

"I have more in stock, look in your pocket-"

I didn't have time to. About five more Templars came to our direction.  
"So they've got reinforcements, too, do they?" I muttered through gritted teeth, as I sent a punch to a target's gut.

"It seems yes," replied Anna, whacking her elbow into her target's face."

Soon, they were knocked out. But more came.  
"Go!" hissed Anna, "keep running down the road for ten minutes, wait by the abandoned building."  
"But-"  
"Go!"

I started to run but then I heard footsteps behind me. I was being chased, that was for sure. I heard pounding feet behind me, as I ran on the sidewalk, my one and a half decades worth of training not letting me down.

I slipped my hand into my pocket, and retrieved a dagger. The one Anna gave to me when she took me in to the Order. As an assassin, I was trained hard. My parents had died when I was eight, and a friend of the family, Anna, took me in and trained me.

I quickly spun round to grab the figure behind me. But they were small. Too small for any young grown up. Too small for a teenager. They grabbed my wrist, and knocked the dagger out of my hand. I went to punch them, but they held my other wrist. I tensed.

"Careful, Kirsty," said the tiny figure. How did she know my name? She let go of my wrists. I felt my wrist throb. Gees, that kid had a strong grip…

This was a kid. A kid had disarmed me. Great. I feel much better about my training now.

"Okay…I'm not exactly sure what's going on. Who are you?" I asked, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

They stepped into the streetlight, where the lamp lit her up. She was very young, no more than twelve. She was wearing an over-large, white hoodie, black pants, and white trainers with pink stripes. Her hair was covered by her hood, although some bronze clumps of hair stuck out. She had a scar on the right side of her lips,  
"I'm Sarah- Sarah Gratton."

I eyed her carefully. She folded her arms, rolling her eyes,

"I'm a part of the order. My Uncle's William Miles."

I relaxed. Bill.

"Are you alone?" I asked.

"Nope. Just waiting for Desmond to catch up…" This kid was clearly English. I couldn't tell where about from England she came from…Not London, and definitely not Manchester. Maybe the South West?  
"Desmond Miles?"  
"Well, duh, 'course."

Desmond. Stupid, idiotic, foolish Desmond. Oh, how it's been a while…

I gave him a smirk as he came into view,  
"Hello, Desmond," I said.

His eyes widened.


	2. Damn it, Kirsty

**Sarah**

"No...oh _shit_! Not you!" Desmond took a few paces backwards. Kirsty just smirked.

"Wait," I said, confused "Am I missing something here?"  
Kirsty grinned, still looking at Desmond,  
"Yep."

"Please don't tell me Damien and Diego are here..." begged Desmond.  
"Mm, sorry, Hun, but yeah, Dammy and Di are here, too."

Desmond groaned, burying his head in his hands. Two dark-skinned, almost identical men jogged down the street, followed by an old woman. The woman smiled kindly at me, as if I was her grandchild,

"Ah...Sarah...last time I saw you, you were three..."

I stared at her, confused. I had no idea who the hell these people were at all. This was like some kind of messed up family Reunion.

One of the tanned men grinned at Desmond, the other gave him a sly smile.  
"Hello there, Des," said the one with the pointier chin, and long fringe. He had an accent of some kind...Spanish, I reckon.

"Diego," nodded Desmond. He turned to the smaller man with fluffy hair, and swallowed, "Damien. How are my two favourite Spaniards?"

Desmond's sudden mood swing towards them surprised me. He ruffled Damien's hair, who shook his head like a dog, before looking at me,  
"And this is Sarah, right?"

I nodded, feeling shyness blush my cheeks. How did they know me.  
"Oh yeah- I remember. Desmond wouldn't leave you alone, when you were a baby."

My brows furrowed, and I looked at Desmond, who'd looked like he'd just been slapped in the face. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Diego smirked,  
"Ha! Dios...would'ya look at that...? She looks almost exactly like Emily..."

Damien smiled,  
"I was just thinking that," he saw my confused expression,"Ah, look, Diego, we're confusing the poor lamb."  
"Desmond. You forgot to tell her about _us?"_ said Diego, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
"Oh Dios," said Damien, putting his hands together, as if in prayer, "May God forgive you, Desmond Miles."  
The older woman let out a laugh,  
"Dammy, Di, shh, now," she chided, smiling. She turned to me, shaking my hand, "I'm Anna."  
"C'mon, guys," said Desmond, "My bar's not too far from here. We'll stay there, and have the Reunion there. This information's confusing my poor cousin."

* * *

Desmond's bar was almost empty. As we entered, I wrinkled my nose at the smell of alcohol. A bartender who I didn't recognize was standing at the bar, cleaning a glass.

"Desmond!" he greeted, "Can I go home now?"

His voice sounded desperate. Desmond laughed,  
"Yeah. I'll take over."  
Gratefully, the bartender exited the room.

I sat on the bar, whilst Kirsty, Damien, Diego and Anna took seats on the stools. Desmond stood behind the bar.  
"They're on the house. Wadd'ya want?"

They gave their orders, and Desmond began making different drinks, and pouring beers into glasses. He handed me a Coke. I smiled- this would be the first time in ages I've had a Coke. It was about nine-tennish, I should be in bed, and I'm having a high-caffeine and sugar drink. I'd been to Desmond's bar plenty of times before, so I knew my way around it off the back of my hand.

"So Des," began Kirsty," How come you've never told Sarah about us?"  
Desmond shrugged,  
"'Suppose I don't like to think about the past."  
"Oh, that's cos' you're no '_Desmond Noir'_," jeered Damien. He changed his tone to a low, gravelly voice, "I've been thinking about the past a lot. Y'know, sometimes, I just wanna end it all.". I giggled. Damien smiled at me.  
"So, anyway," said Desmond, "When're you guy going?"  
"Well..until Becca and Shaun get the P.O.E," replied Kirsty. Desmond paled,  
"You're kidding, right?"  
"Nu-uh."  
Desmond groaned, stamping his foot,"Shit, shit, shit!"  
"Hey, Des, why d'ya hate the idea so much?"  
"Because...just...I want to leave the past ...I don't like looking back..."  
"Yeah, and the fact the last thing you said to me was 'get the fuck outta my way' or something. Yeah. Nice, innit?"  
Desmond frowned,  
"Do you want me to charge you for that drink? Quit while you're ahead."

I frowned at Kirsty. I know how much Des _loathes _thinking about the past. And here Kirsty was tormenting him about it.  
Kirsty mirrored my expression,  
"What?"  
"..."

Desmond's face had a similar expression. Damien bit his lip, and Diego's lips were stuck together in a firm line.

Confusion flooded Kirsty's face,  
"What did I do?"  
"I think," said Anna, "You went a bit too far. As always."  
"Hey!" complained Kirsty,"I didn't do much."

"Huh," snorted Diego.

"What?"

There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

"So, Desmond," piped up Anna, "Haven't seen you in years. Uh, so, has much happened over these years?"

Desmond shrugged. I knew he didn't want to explain every big happening in the last ten years or so.

I took a sip of my Coke, and it was like a relief to my body. When was the last time I had a fizzy drink? About a year ago? Half a year? I don't know...

Fizzy drinks. Raaj's shop. Dad finding out...no, Sarah, you stupid girl...don't think about Dad. You know what happens... one small thought that links up with another...

I swallowed,  
"'cuse me," I said, my voice cracking slightly.

I'd been to Desmond's bar plenty of times before, so I knew my way around it off the back of my hand. I made my way to the toilet. I swallowed, and let the tears streak down my face. I didn't sob, I just silently cried.

I shouldn't let the fact that my Dad's dead get to me so easily. If I think about one thing that reminds me of my Dad, I just...crash. That's the one of things I'm ashamed of about me...

"Sarah?" came Desmond's voice, "You all right in there?"  
I took a breath,  
"Yeah...Just go away, I'll be fine."  
"You'll be fine my ass. You thought about your dad, again, didn't you?"

I stayed silent.  
"You did, didn't you? Urgh- Sarah..." he paused, "It was Kirsty's fault, wasn't it?"  
"Huh?"  
"Kirsty. She made you think..."  
I opened the door, wiping my eyes.  
"Des-  
"I will ki-"  
"_Desmond_," I repeated, firmly," What is with you? When you saw her, you were like 'Oh shit,' and now you say you're gonna kill her just cos' I'm crying over my dead father? C'mon, Des, I need to know the story."  
Desmond took a frustrated breath,  
"Okay. Fine. Kirsty, Damien, and Diego were other kids at the Farm. Kirsty was my training partner under Bill, my Mom, and Anna," he frowned, "Kirsty beat me most of the time, mostly cos' I didn't try my best, and she was always a know-it-all showoff."

I stayed quiet. If I started crying, Desmond would be so sensitive and protective of me. Usually, he's like a big brother. When I cry, no matter weird how it may seem, he's like a dad, in a way.

"C'mon," he said, leading me back to the bar.


	3. Mood

**A/N, By the way, I'll change the POV's throughout the story. There's no set order :3**

**Eliza's helping me with this one. Actually, she wrote about half of this chapter. I just made it into more of a Sarah-character chapter.**

* * *

After a few drinks, Diego and Damien went back to the hotel they were staying in. Kirsty and Anna were supposed to be staying with Desmond and I at Uncle Bill's.

Desmond scowled at this idea. I gathered why- he disliked Kirsty. Not only because of what happened in the past, but because he thinks I was crying because of her. I wasn't, and I'd tried to explain the real reason to him, but he wouldn't listen to me. I'd never seen Desmond so...so _pissed. _Yes, Kirsty could say things that not everybody liked, but did Desmond really have to be angry at her for something she didn't do?

Well, look on the bright side. At least now I know that my dad and I weren't the only short-tempered Ibn'La-Ahads in the family.

* * *

We were soon back at Uncle Bill's. Uncle Bill, himself, was up, and waiting in the lounge. He greeted Anna with a peck on the cheek, and nodded at Kirsty. He looked at me, and then frowned at Desmond,  
"You should have taken her back earlier," he told him. Desmond rolled his eyes, like a teenager who comes home late.

Next I was being shoved up the stairs,  
"Go on- bed."  
"Yes, _sir_," I grumbled, going into my bedroom, and closing the door. I was tired, despite the amount of pints of Coke I'd had, so I had no trouble getting to sleep, grateful that this 'grab-the-data-from-Abstergo-thing' was over and done with, with none of our side harmed. My only fear now was having nightmares.

The nightmares came about twice a week. Usually, it was the same. Frozen solid- Altair, Ezio, Connor, and Desmond finding long, painful ways of killing me...

Although, sometimes it changed to something worse on the scale. It involved my dad's execution, and me being there.

Urgh...I don't want to think about it.

So- I didn't.

* * *

I was woken up by a bark of laughter, coming from downstairs. I looked at my clock- seven thirty two. Too see what was going on, I plodded downstairs in my 'Pajamas' (one of Desmond's old shirts and some leggings) and headed into the kitchen. Damien was leaning against the kitchen unit, a mug in his hand, standing opposite Shaun, who also had a mug in his hand. I looked at the two other Europeans, slightly confused, and tired.

"Wusso funny?" I mumbled, not fully awake.

"Did we wake you?" asked Shaun, a smiled spread across his lips.

I gave him a narrowed-eyes stare.

"I guess we did," said Damien.  
"Ow come you two get on well?" I slurred.

"We know each other."  
'kay, then, I'm goin' back to bed."

I headed back to my room, and I saw Desmond on the way. He looked as if I was in trouble.

"What?" I said, frowning. Desmond sighed, and walked past me down the stairs. Confused, I walked into my bedroom.

Yep- there was something up with Desmond.

* * *

That afternoon, I actually asked him what was up. Well, it seemed I had no choice. He wasn't himself- he was having a go at everything and everyone. Even poor, innocent Becca.

When Desmond was about to storm out of the living room, I grabbed his arm. His eyes were angry, and this made me think that my idea wasn't ideal, but I continued,  
"Why are you being so stroppy?" I asked, frowning. He tore his arm away from my grip.  
"What?" he said fiercely,"Your fucking nails were digging into my skin!"  
He showed my the claw marks on his tattooed arm.  
I glared at him as he stormed out.

The next person to speak was Shaun, who clapped his hands together and said,  
"Right then! Who want's a tea or a coffee?"

I stared at the door Desmond exited- out of the kitchen door, and into the garden. I decided to stand up and follow him. Shaun, who was getting the drinks, held my arm as I tried to exit the house,  
"Just a minute, Sarah," he said, looking at me carefully through his specks, "Do you think it's a good idea to go after him when he's in this mood?"  
I sighed,  
"I need to find out what he's so pissed about."  
"Isn't it easy to notice? It's people he's known from the past. You know that he hates thinking about things that have happened."

"I know, but-"  
"-Use that common sense of yours."  
I gave him a weak smile,  
"you've changed, Hastings, " I said, "From the grouchy, moody, sarcastic-"  
"Don't go too far," he said, but he was smiling.

There was a short pause.  
"I'm still going out to Desmond."  
I dragged my arm away, and headed into the garden. I couldn't see Desmond, so I looked up at the house. He was sitting on the roof, his legs lazily hanging off the edge.

I grabbed the drainpipe, and started pulling myself up the house. I took easy breaths, as I grabbed onto the ledge of a window, and with a big leap, I grabbed hold of the edge of the roof. I pulled myself up onto the roof, feeling nauseated at the height. Desmond sent me a glare.

"C'mon, Des," I said, "This isn't you. What's wrong?"

"You know. It's Kirsty."  
"And..?"  
"She's being the same bitch she was all those years ago. I would have thought she'd change by now."  
"Well... she hasn't."  
I sighed, "Look, Des, you have to let things go. I..Oh shit, that's cheesy...urgh..Um..." I struggled to think of sentence, "You're being childish."  
Desmond sighed this time,  
"Yeah...suppose I am...and look, I even have a kid therapist."  
"Pfft."

At least he was smiling and not frowning.  
"Shall we go inside?"  
"Okay."  
"And this time- behave."  
He rolled his eyes.

I lowered myself down the roof, and back onto a window ledge. My foot slipped, and I felt myself falling-

Desmond grabbed my arm,  
"Careful, kid, how many times do I have to remind you?"  
I sighed with relief, as he helped me down.  
"I'm not a three year old!" I complained, once on firm ground.

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

**A/N A few words are to be said from Eliza. **

_**Eliza: Did you like that chapter I helped with? Yes? Good. Well, ya'll be glad to know that I'll be making a FF account very soon. **_

_**...Damn, that sounds so cheesy...But for the meantime, I'll be helping Smeggo here with her story, seeing as I came up with Kirsty, Diego, and Anna.**_

**Yes, yes, everybody give a round of applause for good ol' Liza here. **

_**Eliza: ^_^ *bows* **_

** Anything else?  
_Eliza: Noop. Just put some Kool Aid on yo' lips, you orange flavoured Motha-_**

**HEM. Would 'ya like more Eliza, my fans? Remember to review, or I'll lock her up in a cupboard.**

_**Eliza: Shit. The bitch isn't lying. **_


	4. Bloody Nose

Now here's the weird part. I stared to see Altair. He was slightly opaque like a ghost, almost. He told me that Desmond and I were the only ones that could see him, and that the situation was like a dream for him. He'd wake up in his time period, and remember the conversations with me as if they were dreams.

Like it always is. It's always just a dream.

When I first saw him standing in my bedroom, I froze.

"Al...Altair..." I stammered, "How the- what...?"  
He shrugged,  
"Questions will be answered later. I'm sure of that."  
"Okay."

I went over to hug him, but my arms went through his body.  
"What?" I murmured, confused.  
"I cannot interact with objects or beings in this time period," he explained.  
"How d'ya know that?"  
"That Clay person told me."

The door opened and Desmond came in. He stared at Altair for a few moments, a 'What the living fuck' look on his face. He even said it.  
Altair, not approving of Desmond's language, explained.

"Oh," said Desmond, like it was a normal thing,"Okay...well..."

He exited my room. I laughed at him, and Altair smiled.

* * *

Desmond seemed to be in a normal mood after the previous' day's episode. How could I tell? He snuck up on me, and kicked my in the back of my legs. I fell, whacking my face on the floor. Blood dripped from my nose, and the back of my leg throbbed. I crouched there, holding my leg, hissing in pain, and holding back tears.

Altair frowned at Desmond.

"W...what the _fuck_ was that for?" I demanded, wiping my nose.  
"For all the times you've kicked me the balls."  
"I...I hate you!"  
"Love ya too."

I stayed quiet, swallowing, keeping away tears. Desmond, now regretting what he had done, crouched down next to me,  
"Naw," he said, putting his arm around me, and squeezing my shoulders, "I'm sorry."  
He looked at the quickly forming bruise on my leg, then at my bloody nose. He wiped away some of the blood. I moved my head away.

"Hey, I told you, I'm sorry."

"It really hurt!" I complained, trying to speak through the lump in my throat.  
"I can see that, and again: I'm sorry."  
"Then why did you do it?"  
"Because I guess I wasn't thinking straight."

"Well, before you make any more actions, actually use that small, pea-sized brain of yours, and think, you stupid moron!"

I stormed to my room. Well, I limped to my room.

On my way there, I saw Altair giving Desmond a 'nice going' glare, before he jogged after me.  
"Sara-"  
"-Leave me alone, Altair," I hissed, wiping my nose furiously with the back of my hand. I crawled on to my bed, burying my head between my knees, letting tears streak down my face.

"You're crying," he said,"How much did he hurt yo-"  
"-It wasn't all Desmond!" I snapped at him,"Sometimes, after everything that's been going on, it's a relief to have a cry- now leave me alone!"

There was silence for a few moments.  
"Altair?"  
"...And the hypocrite says she wants to be left alone," came a familiar voice. I looked up to see Desmond.

"Piss. _OFF_!"

"Can't, I'm afraid, Sparky. Alty told me to comfort you."  
"I don't want comforting," I murmured.

"You need it."

He tried to put his arm around me, but I wriggled away.

"Look, I'm sorry," he apologized, "I really am. I wasn't thinking straight. If the kick really hurt-"  
"It wasn't just you, Desmond. I've already said this to Altair. Sometimes, when everything's all stressy, it's...it's okay to cry. And don't you _dare_ blame it on Kirsty in any way, jackass."

"Wasn't going to, but now that you mention it-"  
"-_Don't you dare._"

He laughed,  
"I was kidding, Sparky."

"Pfft."  
"Don't give me that attitude," he chided in Uncle Bill's tone. A small smile met my lips.  
"Ha! You laughed. I win."  
I blinked at him, wiping away tears and blood,  
"What?"  
He shook his head, laughing,  
"Never mind," he said.  
I stared at him as if he was crazy. Maybe he_ was_ crazy- I dunno. He's Desmond.  
"You okay now?" he asked.

I shrugged.  
"I really am sorry," he said, "I didn't think you'd react like this...but seeing as everything that's happening...I suppose I should have known better."  
I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder.  
"I shouldn't have reacted like I did. _I'm_ sorry, Des."

"Wow. What's with the drastic mood swin- OUCH!"  
His nose crunched against my fist.  
"What the _hell_ was that for?"  
"Do I really have to answer that?" I said, raising an eyebrow, wiping my nose once again,"Well, at least both of our noses are bleeding."  
"Yeah, funny, Sarah."  
I smiled innocently at Altair, who entered the room, glancing at Desmond as he left.

"Now you're both bleeding?" he said, raising an eyebrow.  
"It only makes it even, Altair," I replied, wiping my nose.

Altair tilted his head, looking at my nose.  
"It looks bad-the bleeding's heavy. Maybe you should get a cloth for it?"  
"Yeah..."  
I headed for the bathroom, and I pulled some tissue from the toilet roll. I pinched my nose with it, and headed downstairs, where I found Desmond sitting on the sofa, also holding a tissue to his nose. Uncle Bill folded his arms, and I heard Kirsty snicker. From beside me, Altair glared at her, even though she couldn't see him.

"What happened?" asked Uncle Bill.  
"Desmond kicked me," I explained, " I whacked my face on the floor, therefore, the bloody nose. And I punched Desmond for being an ass."  
"Sarah," sighed Uncle Bill," You're gonna have to stop punching Desmond."  
"I've only done it about twice."

"Have you now?" murmured Altair. I smiled,  
"Yup," I whispered back.


	5. Back in the Animus

**Kirsty**

"No, wait, Diego," I said, as we watched Sarah fight Desmond, "I bet that kid could take you on any day."  
"Pfft," snorted Diego.  
"I don't know, Brother," said Damien, "I think she's got a chance. Look- she's obviously a natural fighter."

And Damien was right. The way Sarah fought- it was almost as if it was buried deep inside her veins. When she blocked Desmond's punches, she thrusted her forearms up and forwards, making Desmond stumble, and then she kicked him in the stomach, and then twisted round, sending a punch to his chest. This kid was clearly talented.

Everyone jumped as Sarah shrieked as Desmond hauled her up,  
"-Okay, okay!" she squealed, "You win- just put me down!"

Desmond put the kid down.

But next, the cousins did something weird. They looked at a spot next to each other, and by the looks of their faces, it seemed they were listening to someone. Then Sarah muttered something to the space, and she laughed. Desmond frowned.

I was confused- Who were they talking to? Or were they talking to each other?

I shook my head- or they're just plain crazy. Yeah, I thought, sounds more reasonable.

Sarah caught me staring, and gave me a look that said 'What?!'.  
"Nothing," I said, "Diego thinks he can take you on."  
Damien smirked. Diego glared at me,  
"Kirsty!" he hissed.  
"No, no, I wanna see this," said Desmond, "C'mon Diego- whadd'ya think?"  
"I will if she does," said Diego, still frowning.

"Okay then."

* * *

Diego started intensely at the small girl who stood in front of him, a long, wooden pole in her hands, holding it in a block stance. He brushed his fringe out of his face, and behind his ear, as he saw Bill nod: The sign to start.

Sarah spun round, deflecting Diego's blow. Diego tried again, but the other European blocked it. Sarah tried to jab Diego in the ribs, but failed, as wood made contact with her fingers. She let her right hand go of the pole for a second, feeling pain sting her finger joints, but then quickly deflected another hit from Diego.

"Ten bucks on Sarah," muttered Desmond to me as we watched Diego trying spearing Sarah onto the end of his wooden pole.

"Deal."  
The sharp-chinned Spaniard dodged a hit to his head from Sarah's pole, and sent one to her. She dodged, but the end of the pole scratched her forehead, leaving a red mark.

I glanced at Damien, who watched his older brother, laughing as Diego almost tripped over. Diego sent his brother a sharp glare, before returning his attention to what Sarah was doing. He laughed at her as he blocked her with such a force, she stumbled backwards a few paces. She took only a second to regain her attention to Diego, who was beginning to think his opponent was an easy choice.

It was easy to see that Sarah was determined to win against Diego. She whacked her stick on Diego's, and almost dropped it. The continued to fence with the poles like two pirates with swords from the movie series _Pirates of the Caribbean. _Desmond snickered, and I could see why-Diego and Sarah had one thing in common- They were so serious when it came to sparring.

Diego grunted as Sarah's pole came into contact with his arm with a great force. He tried to hide the pain on his face, but Sarah easily detected it, smirking at him. Diego hissed at her, jabbing her chest. Sarah scowled at him.

Bill, however, looked pleased. He was probably pleased to see Sarah fight someone other than Desmond. He folded his arms, and watched as Sarah was knocked to the ground, but then rolled out of the way of an attack from Diego. She jumped up, kicked Diego in shin, and he took in a sharp breath, as Sarah kneed him where it hurts.

Diego hunched up, only to receive a knee to the face. He was knocked over, dropping his pole, and Sarah pointed her pole to his face,  
"I think I win?"  
Diego scowled,  
"Fine," he grumbled.

I scowled, too, handing Desmond ten dollars.  
"Th_aaa_nk-you," he said, pleasantly, grinning.

* * *

**Sarah  
**  
Altair seemed pleased with me. He'd watched the whole fight with Diego.

"I'm proud of you," he told me. I smiled,  
"Thanks," I replied.  
"You've still got your fighting skills...If I wasn't a ghost, then I'd spar with you and see whether I could be you or not."  
"Fat chance on that, Altair."  
"On what?"  
"That you'll beat me."

He let out a laugh.

"I dunno, Sparky," came a voice. Desmond came into view, "I'd say Altair'd win."  
"Well, why don't I go in the Animus and find out?" I suggested.  
"Do you want to go in that machine?" asked Desmond. I shrugged,  
"Dunno. Sort of."  
"Okay then. BECCA! SPARKY WANTS TO GO IN THE ANIMUS!"  
Altair and I jumped at Desmond's shouting.  
"OKAY!" was the reply, "GIMME A MINUTE TO SET UP BABY."

Desmond led me down stairs, where Becca was setting up the Animus in the living room. Altair followed us.  
"Lie down Sparky. You'll visit several scenes, and not all of them happened, okay?"

"Yep."

I lied down in the orange seat. The lights faded out.

They returned to me sitting rather grumpily on Ezio's back.  
"Elena!" he gasped, "Sister, please...I cannot breathe!"  
"Then what do you say?"  
"All right...Sorry..."  
"And the rest...?"  
"Sorry for being uno che va in culo a sua madre...now please, let me up."  
"Bene."  
I let him up. Ezio groaned, bending his back backwards.  
"You're heavy," he complained.  
"Do you want me to do it again?"

_Oh Ezio. Elena is so mean to you. _  
"No..."  
"Sta zitto!"

"Oh, Elena," came a voice. I turned my head around to see Frederico standing in the doorway, "Are you bullying poor Ezio again?"  
"What can I say? He was being mean to me," I said smugly.

Frederico let out a laugh, partly because of the slight blush on Ezio's cheeks.  
"Sta Zitto, Elena," he snapped.

I stuck my tongue out at him,  
"Fottiti, finocchio!" I growled playfully. Frederico gave me a careful stare,  
"Careful not to go too far, little sister. You know Ezio's sensitive in that subject."  
_"I am not gay!_" insisted Ezio. Frederico and I laughed-We knew he wasn't.

Now the scene changed. I was sitting on a bench in Masyaf castle's beautiful Garden. It was cooler there, because of the pond and stream, and the natural mini-waterfall.  
_I was with some boy. He was holding my hand. _

"Channelle," called an Assassin from the other side of the garden, "Altair wishes to see you."  
"I'll be there in a minute," I replied. I looked back at the boy,  
"I'll see you later, Adiv," I kissed his cheek, and headed for Altair's chambers.  
W_hat the fuck? Was he, like, my boyfriend, or something? Wait...hang on...I saw him when Altair was 'executed'. Yes, that's right. That's that kid. _

I travelled up the steep stone steps, turned in a few corridors, and reached Altair's chambers. He was with Malik, and Rauf.  
"Is there...something wrong?" I asked, choosing my words carefully.  
"La, la," replied Rauf, "Nothing is wrong, Channelle.  
"Then why is everyone so tense?"  
_I didn't get to hear their answer because my vision faded yet again. It returned to see Abbas and Swami. Beside me stood Maria. I was Altair._

I took out the Apple from a pack on my belt.

_No, Altair, what are you thinking? Don't...  
_Swami reached out for it,  
"I told Sef that you wanted him dead," he mumbled, "He died, thinking his own father had betrayed him."  
My anger exploded into the Apple.  
"Altair! No!" cried Maria. I ignored her.

_Dammit, Altair, you fool. Do as Maria says._

Swami gasped, pulling out a dagger, and slicing his face.

"Altair!" Maria got between Swami and I, and tried to pull the Apple from my hand.

And then, Swami's dagger slipped.

Maria in the way.

Her gasp as the dagger sunk into her back. Blood covered her robes, and Swami's hands.

I dropped the Apple as Maria fell. I lowered her to the ground, ignoring the blood staining my robes, staring desperately into her eyes.  
"Maria," I muttered.  
"Strength...Al...ta...ir..." she managed, before...before she died.  
"Maria!" I cried.

Then my vision returned to Rebecca, who was un-wiring the Animus.  
"Awww...Becca!"  
"No, Sparky," she said, "Too violent."  
I rolled my eyes, sitting up. I rubbed my aching head.  
"Sorry the scenes were rushed," apologized Becca, "I had to fit it in all in an hour. "  
"I was in there for an hour?"  
"Give or take few minutes."

* * *

**A/N The return of Elena XD Oh...and Adiv :3 **

**Okay, so Eliza suggested I get to some real- badass action soon, so in the next chapter *spoiler* or so, Sarah's gonna get kidnapped, but it's no ordinary kidnapping, either :]**

_**Eliza: :3**_

**GET THAT DIRTY THOUGHT OUT OF YOUR HEAD. **

_**Eliza: Sorry. Anyway- I sort of helped...a little bit wit this chapter. When Smeggo was listening to the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' themetune, I suggested for her to write something, so she did, and put it on DA...blaurhh...and I helped. Where the hell's my credit, Nells? **_

***Shrugs***

**Translations:**

******Uno che va in culo a sua madre-A motherfucker. **

******Bene: Okay.**

******Sta Zitto- Shut up.**

******Fottiti, finocchio- Go fuck yourself, homo.**


	6. Damien

_**Eliza: I know what you're thinking. Miss Author knows some harsh language in other languages.**_

**I'm Speckle :3 Oh, and btw, the main parts Eliza's now doing atm is correcting Kirsty's, and some other's. characteristics. Just in case you're wondering.**

**And please, I need those awesome-sauce reviews, so I know what you think. Any improvements, any negative comments, any good comments, any 'please update soon, I love you so much' comments are greatly appreciated and all welcome, not just by me, but by Liza as well. Thanks.**

**And thank you for the faves, those people who've favourited :3 **

**New system:**

**I won't update until I get three reviews. I will increase the amount every chapter :) **

* * *

"So, uh, kid," said Kirsty, when Desmond was knocked out cold in the Animus, "I'm curious- how's Dessers for a cousin?"  
I shrugged,  
"Annoying," I replied casually, chewing on my fingernail.  
Kirsty snickered,  
"Heh..._apart_ from that. Y'know what I mean."

I gave this question a moment to think of the answer,  
"I dunno...He's funny, but an idiot...but he cares. So really like a big brother."

Kirsty tilted her head to the side,  
"Really? Cos' when I trained with him, he was a bit of an ass."  
I frowned at this response,  
"Desmond admits that he could have been more serious about being an assassin when he was younger. Although...sometimes he _is_ a bit of an ass."

"Imagine that," murmured Kirsty dreamily, "A caring Desmond."  
"It's true though, Kirsty," I said, disliking her even more by the second,"When I was shot-"  
"-Shit, girl, you were _shot?"_

"Yeah. I was. Anyway, when I was shot, he was the first person to aid me." Think of an insulting comment about Desmond to that, Kirsty, I thought, smirking.

She didn't reply. She went off to talk to Rebecca. Thank God, I thought, stretching my arms and legs out on the sofa, yawning, and almost kicking Damien.

"Tired?" he asked.  
"Mm. Quite. Hey, Damien? You ever been to England?"  
"Yes," he replied, "Once."  
"Where?"  
"Someplace in London. I can't remember. Hey, Sarah?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You ever been to Spain?"  
"Yep," I replied, smirking at the memories, "I've been to Majorca twice."  
"Did you like it there?" he asked.  
"It was a bit hot. But other than that, I really liked it."  
Damien laughed,

"Wow. I'd never expect it to be hot."  
I let out a small giggle,  
"No...I packed my coats and scarves."  
"Wise choice."

"Dammy!" called Diego from the garden, "Come give Bill and I some help!"  
Damien sighed,  
"I'd better help them. God knows what my brother would do if I don't."  
"God knows what my Uncle would do."  
He laughed, before quickly scurrying off.  
"I know," I muttered,"I need caffeine."

I headed to the kitchen, found the teabags, the milk, and a mug, and put on the kettle.  
"Ah, so she does like tea," came a voice from behind me. I jumped to see Shaun.  
"I'm a Brit," I replied, "Of course I like tea. "  
"Teabag in first, or milk?"  
"Teabag."  
"Yeah, you're right."

I gave him a pleased look.  
"One does like a cup of tea," I said, putting on a posh accent.  
"Yes, me thinks it helps the mind."  
"Agreed."

We both snickered at Desmond, who came in, his hair ruffled, and looked at us as if we were both crazy,  
"Oh, Jesus Christ," he muttered.  
"Says the man with a pathetic excuse of facial hair," I teased.  
"Shut up, Sparky, no one disses the beard-"  
"-What beard? OUCH." I rubbed my head where Desmond had hit me.

I heard a growl and turned around to see Altair.  
"Relax, Altair, you numpty."  
"What?" Shaun stared at me, "You see Altair?"  
"We both do," said Desmond, "He's like a ghost."  
"Where is he now?"  
Desmond pointed to Altair, who was next to the kettle. He frowned as Desmond put his finger through his head.

"Excuse me, Altair," I said, reaching for the kettle.  
"I don't see anything," murmured Shaun, his eyebrows creasing. Desmond and I exchanged glances,  
"We had a feeling you and the others couldn't," said Desmond.

I poured the water into my mug, and mixed in milk.

"Tea?" scoffed Desmond, "Really?"  
"I'm English. Don't blame me."  
"I will, for acting like Shaun."  
"Maybe I should blame you for acting like an American?"  
"Maybe you should quit while you're ahead or this will turn into racism?"

I glared at him, sipping my tea.

"Anyway," continued Desmond, "How could you and Shaun drink that stuff? I've tried it once, it's horrible!"  
"That's what you think," replied Shaun,"I'm not too fond of coffee, myself."

He left.  
"How could he not be fond of coffee?"

I shrugged,  
"It's too bitter."  
Desmond put his hand on his face,  
"Please don't tell me you don't like coffee."  
I smirked at him, folding my arms,  
"No, I absolutely hate it. I have no idea why it exists- It's all right, I suppose. Prefer tea, though."

* * *

"Bill reckons we should spar," said Damien, later that day.  
"M'kay. I'm fine with it."  
"All right, then."

We headed for the garden. Kirsty, Desmond and Diego followed.

"We're doing this the 'Farm' way of doing it," explained Damien, "There's only one rule- get your opponent on the ground. Anything can happen, such as cuts, bruises, bloody noses, and broken bones, etc."

I took a breath,  
"All right, then."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Sarah," Damien said, getting into a starting position, his legs slightly parted.

"Nah, it's okay. And likewise."  
"You ready?"  
"Yeah."

He waited for me to attack first. I ran at him, my fist aiming for his ribs. He stopped me with a simple raise of his knee.

Damien was the last kind of person you'd expect to be an assassin. He was kind, generous, and a joker. His image was a sixth former late for the first class of the day. And now, while sparring with him, he just seemed different. Like a new Damien. A more vicious, serious Damien.

He kept catching me off guard, jabbing my sides, then whacking me in the face. He was quicker than his brother, but just as sneaky.

At that precise moment, I was losing. Badly. I kept losing my balance because of the Spaniard's attacks. I tried sending a punch to his face, but he grabbed my fist tightly at a crushing force which made me gasp, and twisted painfully so that my back was facing him. Damien shoved me, hoping to make me fall over, but my feet stayed firmly on the ground.

I tried kneeing and kicking him in the nuts, but he was prepared- every time he saw my leg jerk, he'd block it somehow- whether with his knee, his elbow or his arm.

I'd gained some injuries- a sore lip and cheek, and the feel of forming bruises on my arms and chest, and my fist ached.

I'd injured him a few times, too. A few claw marks had droplets of blood coming from them on his hands and arms, and red marks were forming into bruises on his topless chest.

I managed to give him a kick to the face. I'd been trying to use this for a while. I realized that I could use my abilities well if I chose to, rather than use the basics. By this I mean I could try and experiment, and see what I'm able to do.

Well, now I know I can boot a tall man in the face. Wow.

He dodged another punch, but then returned it. I felt a throbbing pain in my shoulder, but ignored it, as I kicked him in the ribs.

I yelled out as he kicked me hard in the shin, and let my guard down as he caught his fist on my chin. I tasted blood in my mouth as I bit my tongue hard. I had to ignore it if I wanted to win. _I had to win._

I tensed both of my fists, feinting a hit with my left fist, and hitting the young man in the face with my right. He wasn't expecting that. While he was caught off guard, I kneed him in the stomach. The breath was blown out of him, but to my surprise, he recovered quickly, and whacked hard me with the back of his arm.

Now Damien grabbed my arms, and attempted to push me, but I parried with my own strength. I struggled to keep my balance, and my back began to bend slowly backwards when...

My leg popped up, and got him where it hurts most. He groaned, his hands letting go of my arm. While he was stunned, I punched him hard in the face, and kicked him over.

I smirked at him, as the softer Damien came back to earth. He grinned. I offered a hand to help him up, and he took it.

"Are you all right?" he asked, "I didn't hurt you too much, did I?"  
I shook my head, and then spat out some blood. I saw his face.  
"Don't worry," I said, "I bit my tongue." I gestured to the claw marks on his arms, "I did worse."  
He shrugged. We looked at Diego, Kirsty and Desmond, who were standing about ten meters away. Diego was smirking at his brother, Desmond's arm were folded, and his eyebrows were raised slightly, and Kirsty had an impassive look on her face.  
"Kirsty," said Damien, "Why are you so miserable?"  
Desmond snickered at the look that now took Kirsty's face.  
"I'm not," replied Kirsty, glaring at Desmond.  
"You so are," I muttered.

I flexed my painful wrist, inspecting it.

"Ouch."

We soon were heading for inside the house, but I paused at the doorway, when I saw what looked like a person at the far end of the garden. I shook my head and went inside.


	7. Kill me

**A/N Warning: Violence. And Blood. Lots and lots of blloooorrrrddd...**

**Oh, and a long chapter. VERY LONG. SO FREAKIN' LONG. I know it seems random, but I had to get the action in now, seeing as this story is only going to be about 20-30 chapters shorter than C.O.N.**

**Three reviews, please. I know it sounds mean, but to own up, this ends with a cliffhanger. **

**_Eliza: ;_; Killjoy. _**

* * *

Damien took in a sharp breath as something hit a bruise on his arm. I gave him a guilty look,  
"Sorry," I said.  
"It's oka-"  
He took in a surprised breath as I rose from my seat, and hugged him.  
"Better?"  
He laughed,  
"Si. Much. Thank you."

I grinned, "You're welcome."

I went back to my seat, and yawned, stretching out on the sofa, again nearly kicking Damien.

I noticed Desmond occasionally glancing...no...glaring at me. I sighed, slightly frustrated.  
"What's wrong, Des?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied.  
"I've seen that look before. What is it?"  
"I fucking told you- nothing, you fucktard."  
I reflected his glare,  
"The word 'Fucking' sort of gave it away! Can you just stop being miserable for once, and actually cheer up?"  
There was silence between everyone for a few moments. Shaun and Rebecca held their breaths, Uncle Bill froze, holding a cup of coffee halfway to his mouth, Anna stared at Kirsty, who stared at Diego, who stared at Damien, who glanced at me nervously.

Desmond resumed glaring at me. I felt a cold chill as I saw Altair, who was next to me, put a hand on my shoulder,  
"Sarah," he muttered into my ear.

I was the first one to back down. I stormed up stairs, slamming the door hard behind me. I curled up on my bed, like I use to those months ago when my dad died, and I cried. Not so silent, though not sobs.

"Sarah," said Altair, again, sitting down on the bed next to me as I cried.

"Leave me alone, Altair."

"You've been crying a lot, lately, habibi. Why?"  
"I don't know! Maybe it's because of everything that's been happening! Sometimes it's good to a cry and get it out of your system."  
"Aasef..."

* * *

When I stopped crying, I went into the kitchen, ignoring everyone, especially Desmond. I spotted something move in the garden...something like the silhouette of a person. I headed into the garden to where I saw the figure, and as I was going to turn around, something sharp pricked my neck, and I suddenly felt very dizzy and tired.  
"Go to sleep," came a whisper in my ear. I collapsed, and the lights went out.  
"Good girl."

* * *

When I next awoke , it was dark, and couldn't move my arms and legs. Then I realized- I had been tied up and blindfolded. I squirmed- the ropes were pretty tight…no wait, these weren't ropes…they were chains! I was strapped to a chair by chains and blindfolded. Great. Just perfect.

I heard breathing.

"Hey!" I shouted, "Hello! Who's there?"  
"You're awake. Finally. Have a good sleep?"  
"Who is that? Where are you?"  
"You know where the flash drive is," came a voice. I felt breathing in my ear, "And I believe you're going to tell me."

I let out a laugh. The situation was cheesy. Like one of those torture scenes in films where the good guy gets whacked by the bad guy and the bad guy keeps screaming_ 'TELL ME WHERE IT IS!'._

"Why are you laughing?" asked the voice. His voice reminded me of Death the Kid from the Anime, Soul Eater. It was low, and soft.

"Because this is stupid. All for one small memory stick."  
"You have no idea what's on it, do you? Well, that's why I expect you'll tell me. Because to you- it's worthless."  
"It may be worthless to me, but obviously to you, and Rebecca and Shaun, it's very important. I admit this- I know where it is, and I am not going to tell you for many reasons."

"…"

"Also, even though it probably leads to the Hourglass, and that I'll have a bad reaction to it, I know it'll be safer in Assassin hands than Templar."  
"Who's to say I'm a Templar?" the voice snickered.  
"I know you are." A sigh.  
"Damn, I thought I could fool you."

I smiled sweetly, even though I couldn't see my captor. By the tingle of his breath in my ear, I guessed he was behind me. I could smell him, too. It smelt as if he was wearing an expensive cologne.

"Who are you?" I asked, "Are you someone I know?"  
"No," came the reply, "Despite the fact I and the others have been watching you and Subject Seventeen for some time."

I remembered the other day when I saw that figure of a human in the garden.  
"Abstergo. You work for that _fucking, God forsaken, twisted_-"  
I was cut off by a punch in the face. Actually…a claw to the lip. I groaned, as I felt my lip split, and start to bleed. It stung  
"I wouldn't go too far, kid," the voice in my ear said, "I can do anything I like to you while you're in this state. Why, you're actually quite a good looking girl. Be grateful I won't do anything like _that _to you. I'm not that kind of guy."

I knew what he meant by 'that', and I had the urge to vomit. A finger wiped blood from my chin. I tried to move my head away, but the chains painfully dug into my collar.

"Your blood is so bright," purred the voice, "Like red paint, almost. So was your father's."

My…my dad's? This guy knew my dad?  
"How…how do you know my dad?"  
A soft chuckle in my ear,  
"I was there when your dad was killed. Surely you've seen his death in the Animus by now?"

I kept silent. The answer was yes. But who was this guy? My mind raced, looking back into the scene where my dad died. There were a group of people- Warren, with the gun, Harrison, his son (who killed my mother a few years before, and kidnapped me to be later killed by me), and about three other men. Let me think…there was a tall guy with longish black hair, pale skin, and green eyes, a middle-aged man with brown-grey hair, and a blonde guy with a beard outlined on his face.

Which one of them was it?

"You're thinking- trying to work out who it was, yes?"  
"…"

"Well, let me give you a clue- Death the Kid."  
"Ah. Are you working alone?"

"I work for Abstergo. Vidic said I could capture, and get information out of you without help. I don't need it, see. So for now, Warren can't do anything about you. I have full control."

Vidic- that dick, I thought.

My breathing accelerated as I felt a rough cheek next to mine, and the cold sharpness of a knife pressed against my throat.  
"What are you?" I sneered, but my voice cracked, "Some kind of child paedophile?"

He chuckled,  
"No," he replied, softly, "Now- if you please- the information."

"This isn't helping, you know, kid."  
I shivered as the blade was pulled across my neck. I felt no pain.  
"Be grateful I pressed the blunt side on your neck," said the voice. The knife was drawn away.  
"I'm going to take off your blindfold now."

My eyes squinted as all I saw was whiteness. I was in the middle of a large, white- tiled room.  
I looked at my captor- just as I remembered. He stood tall in front of me, wearing a white lab coat over a black suit and tie. His fringe was just over his eyebrows, and looked as though he straightened it. The rest of his hair was halfway between his ears and his shoulders. His eyes were a bright green. In his coat pockets were numbers of knives.

He did, indeed, resemble Death the Kid.

I expected his face to have the sharpness of the rest of the Abstergo workers, but it was soft, and almost kind.

He gave me a small smile,

"Ahh yes," he said, "You look so much like James…your eyes have his in them."  
I glared at him.  
"Where are my manners?" he added, "My name is Andrew. Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"Let me go," I hissed.  
"Oh, so as soon as I take off your blindfold, you act like this?" he tutted, "This isn't good, Sarah. You seemed…sort of polite before."  
"Yeah, but you're a Templar. You people killed my parents, and my family members, too. You deserve to burn in hell!"

Andrew chuckled, and threw the knife. I sunk into the wood of the chair, millimetres away from my head. I took in a sharp breath, staring at the knife.  
"Don't play dangerous games, Andrew," I hissed.  
He threw back his head and laughed  
"Me? Dangerous games? More like you. You're twelve, and you've already killed more people than Desmond's served drinks, just about."  
I knew there was some sarcasm in there. I hadn't killed that many people.

"Let me go," I said.  
"Why?"  
"No one likes being chained to chair."  
"True, but no. I'll kill you, Sarah Gratton. But you'll tell me all I need, and you'll suffer through it. Okay?"  
"Not oka-"  
I was punched in the face. There was a cracking noise, and blood dripped from my nose. I wanted to tend to the searing pain in my nose, but I couldn't.

This had got serious. This was no longer a friendly chat.  
Andrew smiled menacingly,  
"Still…bright red blood."  
I stared at him darkly. I cried out as he dragged the dagger up my face.  
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?" he sneered, "I went a bit too far, didn't I?"

The right side of my face burned and stung and bled.

"I'll go a bit easier, this time."  
He nicked the other side of my cheek.

"I know this sounds like begging, but stop," I whimpered, "I'm just a kid. "  
"I can see that. But unless you tell me where the memory stick is kept, I won't stop."  
He continued to nick the dagger on the flesh that showed on me. Soon, I was used to the stinging pain. But it still hurt. As for the scars they would leave…they would heal over in no time.

Now Andrew made the next move. About two inches of the blade was dug into my leg.  
I screamed, tears streaming down my face.  
"That hurt, didn't it?"

My crying was his response.

He pulled the knife out, and ran the sharp end it along my cheek bone. I stared nervously at it.

"You're upset," he said,"Why so serious, Sarah? Let's put a smile on that face."  
"Please don't," I begged. He was going to put the blade in my mouth, and pull upwards, so I'd have scars like the Joker.

This guy was crazy.

"Vidic has me as his top interrogator, " he said, running the blade along my trembling lips, "Can you see why?"  
I said nothing, only focusing on the knife that was close to entering my mouth.

He continued to dig his weapon into parts of my body- through my thighs, my arms that were tied to my side, my shoulder.  
"Anything to say?"  
"Kool Khara, koos!" I spat.  
I was smacked around the face,  
"La! Such a foul mouth...I'm going to have to punish you. Do you agree?"

"Answer me!" he snapped, jamming the knife in the chair.

I stayed quiet. He whacked me around the face.

"Hell, are you deaf, girl? Answer me!" He whacked me again, and again. Then he stopped, relaxing, and giving me an intense stare, "Stick out your tongue."  
I didn't.  
"I said stick out your tongue!"  
He painfully opened my jaw, and yanked out my tongue. He received the knife, and started carving a cross on my tongue. My screams were muffled as I tasted blood.

* * *

Over the next twenty four hours, this torture continued. Altair always stood in the corner, staying still, as Andrew found a new way to hurt me. He put salts in my wounds, and even though salt was supposed to help them, it burned.

"Salt helps fix the wounds," he'd said, smirking at me as I cried out, "So I'll have more skin to puncture."

"Please Altair," I begged.  
"La. I want to help you. Desmond and the others are on their way."  
"No," I shrieked, as the burning got hotter, "Altair! It hurts! It hurts so much!"

"Who are you talking to?" asked Andrew, somewhat curious.  
I stayed silent.  
"You're seeing things?"  
"I see the ghost of my ancestor," I said, through gritted teeth.  
"And you think he can help?" sneered Andrew.

"Yes. He can get Desmond to kill me."  
"I wouldn't count on it, Sarah."  
I was punched again.  
"You know that I'm not going to tell you," I said.  
"Oh well," he replied, "We're having fun, anyway."

He pressed a finger on one of my wounds, and licked the blood that was on his finger.  
I glared at him through my tears,  
"You're sick."  
He laughed,  
"I've been called worse."

I winced as he clawed my cheek, drawing a little blood. He smiled, looking at the blood in his fingernails.  
"So vibrant…Hm...that reminds me...Have you ever had a boyfriend?"  
I glared at him. But then I thought of Joe, who never got my answer, and Sam, who I had a close friendship with. Sam was one of my best friends. But he died in the fire, along with all my other classmates.

"Ooh, I think I touched a nerve," teased Andrew.

I kept my lips pursed, until:

"Why did you choose me?" I asked, trying to ignore the pain, "Why not another Assassin?"  
"The other Assassin's didn't kill my best friend and brother!"  
I gave him a confused stare.  
"You killed Harrison, didn't you?" he said, clenching his fists,"Vidic was a close friend of my parents, but they were killed by your people. So he took me in. Harrison and I grew up together, and got on like brothers."  
"I'm sorry," I apologized, "If this is a personal matter...then-"  
"But we killed you mother."

My eyes widened, "What?"

He smiled,  
"That's right. She was a pretty lady...like you. Shall I tell you what happened? She broke into an Abstergo building, and killed everyone apart from Harrison and I. We proved too much of a challenge for her. I held her back, as Harrison tried to decide what to do with her. Your Mother had such a foul mouth...so to stop this, I had the idea to rip out her vocal chords, and-"  
"-Stop," I begged, shaking my head.  
"-I slit a cut in her throat, as Harrison ripped out what was there. He ripped out too much...and...well, she died of bleeding."

My chest was heaving by now. My brain was unable to process the information.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no..." I muttered, over and over again shaking my head, feeling tears prick my cheeks.

When I next looked up, Andrew was smiling kindly,

"I'm going to let you talk to your ancestor," he told me,"See if he can comfort you."  
I looked at Altair.  
"Altair," I whimpered, "Please."  
"La. I cannot. The others are on their way. I've told you that."  
"Altair! Asre'ee! Asre'ee! Kill me!"

"Yajebu an athhaba al aan," he said, calmly," They're nearly here."

He walked through the wall and he was gone.  
"Speaking Arabic?" sneered Andrew, "Altair? Was that Altair to comfort you?"  
I hissed at him.

"Oh well…back to the beating-" he paused, smirking, "I know…I'll unchain you."  
He got the keys to the locks binding the chains together, and unlocked them. I stood up, only to stumble over at the wounds in my legs. My body felt like it was on fire at the pain.

"Aww…can't walk?"

He threw me the knife he was using to injure me. I managed to catch it, but I fell over again.

"Take it to defend yourself."

He pulled out another knife from his coat pocket, and walked towards me, as I crawled away. He sliced a wound in my hand.

"Get up!" he hissed, giving me a boot to the ribs. I shrieked as I felt a crack. "Are you deaf, kid? I said get up! Defend yourself!"

I used my remaining strength to pull myself up, and stand with a limp. Andrew aimed a jab with his weapon. I blocked it with my knife, and spun round, punching him, which he blocked, and shoved me over, slicing a thin cut in my neck.

I was kicked over again, and punched. The knife flew out of my hand. I crawled desperately to try and get it. I reached out, and –

I screamed, as he brought down his foot on my arm. I felt an incredible pain as it snapped. It actually snapped. A loud, almost-clear crack was heard. The sound echoed around the room.  
He chuckled darkly,  
"Not so tough when you're injured, are you? A girl who can take down a grown man…reduced to nothing. "  
"Please," I whimpered, "I don't…I…"  
"You don't want to die?" he scoffed, "Why, just a minute ago you were screaming to have your life ended. I'm only giving you what you want."

He grabbed my face, staring fiercely into my eyes.  
"I'm going to kill you now, Sarah Gratton," he hissed, a pleased look on his face, "And I'm going to enjoy doing so."

The knife was raised. And he brought it down.

* * *

**Sorry it was a bit rushed. I really am. Eliza's angry at me for it. Please be nice. **

**Translations:**

**(Spanish)**

**Si- Yes.**

**(Arabic)**

**Habibi- My love, my friend, my dear etc. **

**Aasef- I'm sorry.**

**Kool khara, koos- Eat shit, cunt. **

**La- No**

**Altair! Asre'ee! Asre'ee!-Altair! Hurry up! Hurry up!**

**Yajebu an athhaba al aan- I have to go.**


	8. Bickering

**A/N Sorry for the late update. I'm a woman of my word when I say 'three reviews, then chapter'. I know, it took me long enough to write, but cut me some slack, please, I have a family and personal life outside this computer- Wait, haven't I wrote that before? *shrug* ****  
**

**And hey, that reminds me: Check out United. I'd say it's going okay ^^. Who knows? You may like it.  
(Those who are new here- United is based two years after Child of None, and Thompsongunner91's 'New to the Creed'. Moody thirteen years old Sarah is sent away for training.)**

**I'll give you milk and warm, melty cookies if you give it a go. ****Last beg of United for a few months or so. I've done it enough times in Child of None. **

* * *

The white door burst open, and Andrew was knocked to the ground. Desmond was standing where Andrew had stood, his fist clenched, and his eyes fierce. The knife Andrew was holding fell to the ground with a clink.

Andrew sat up, wiping the blood off his lip, and picking up the knife,  
"Heh…come to save your beloved cousin, Miles?"  
"Stand up so I can beat the shit out of you," hissed Desmond, raising his left fist for more. I noticed he was wearing the hidden blade. "I said STAND UP!"

"As you wish," replied the mad Templar. He grabbed the knife from the floor, stood up, and readied it. Desmond engaged his blade.

The two used their blades as swords- slicing, blocking and parrying the other's movements.

I lay there, in pain. Everything hurt. My head hammered, my heart pounded inside my broken ribcage, my wounds stung. Everything.

But I was alive. That was the good thing.

My breathing was slow. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't breathe normally. I saw blood cover the white floor tiles, and the walls…my blood. No…I couldn't be bleeding this much. Could I?

I needed to think about positive things...happy memories. Please. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember,

_Mum hauled me up, and rubbed her nose on mine while I giggled hysterically. Her soft hair tickled my face._

_"Mummy!" I squealed. Mum hugged me to her chest, before resting me on her hip. _

How old was I? Like, three?

_Dad walked into the room, and pecked mum on the lips, then my forehead. _

_"Welcome home, love," greeted Mum._

There has to be more than that...

_"Saraaah...?" Arms wrapped around me from behind, and my best friend rested her head on my shoulder.  
"Kaaatee?  
"Who do you like...?"  
"No one."_

_Katie pouted her lip,  
"Many people like you. You could easily ask someone out."  
"Shut up, Katie, I don't want to talk about boys."_

_Katie groaned.  
"You're no fun," she said.  
"Oh really?"  
"Nope."  
"Don't suppose you'll be happy that my dad agreed to let you sleep round?"  
"Okay, I love you!"_

_She squeezed me tighter.  
"Love ya too."  
"Do the same rules apply, though?" asked Kate,"You know, about not going into the garden? And opening that cupboard?"  
"Yeah."_

_Katie groaned again. "No fair."  
I sighed,  
"I know...but y'know about my dad training people for the army."  
"Must be awesome," she said.  
I frowned,  
"Not really. I mean, my Mum's dead. And it's weird having people in my house carrying weapons and stuff."  
"Hmm, suppose you're right."_

Andrew was knocked to the floor again, this time beside me. This time, he looked injured, battered and broken. There were patches of red on his white lab coat, and some of his hair stuck to his face with sweat and blood.

"You'll be regretting that you ever laid a finger on her," Desmond told him, nearing him, his blade ready to give the final blow-

Andrew grinned in anticipation,  
"Then get on with it, Miles! Do it! Kill me!" He moved his arm in a sharp movement. I felt something sharp enter my side, and then I realized-Andrew had stabbed me. Deep.

My mouth opened and let out a loud cry as I felt a stinging pain attack my side. My head spun as I fought with consciousness.

Andrew caught my eye and grinned at me. Then he grinned at Desmond,  
"An eye for an eye, my friend," he said.

Desmond let out a growl of anger as he stabbed the Templar several times- in the neck, back, legs, arms, anywhere he could reach, the blade stabbed.

Blood dribbled down my lip.

"Desmond…you can stop now," came a voice. Altair."He's dead."  
Desmond let out an exhausted and frustrated sigh, as he finally took his blade out of the bloody corpse of Andrew, and kicked it. His attention went to me, and he started to panic when he saw the knife jammed in my side, and the blood dripping down from my lips.

_I can't die…not here…not now. I don't know why I wanted to die…it's such a painful progress…why does it hurt so much? It hurts too much!_

I was being carried, and I suddenly screamed when someone pulled the knife out from my side. I continued to cry out even after as spasms of pain built up and spread all over my body.

"Dammit, Sparky!" growled Desmond's voice, "You won't die yet!"

My body was rested on some kind of surface. I heard voices. My hands curled around the material beneath me as I felt salve being rubbed on my wounds. The familiar stinging returned...then...oh God...the burning.  
"Desmond!" I cried, "Make it stop!"  
"I'm trying! Okay? This will help! I swear."

I heard murmurs in the background- the gang. But there were other voices, too. Other accents I'd never heard before. They barked out instructions.

I heard someone growl angrily,  
"Those God-Damned Templars!"  
"Okay, man, calm dow-" Another voice I didn't know.  
"She's a kid, dammit! A kid. Imagine how fucking awful it must be!"

Were there more people? I thought. Then, at last, I lost consciousness.

* * *

When my eyes opened...I groaned. The Animus loading screen. Again. I let out a loud growl of frustration.  
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I shouted. I folded to the ground, tears running down my face. I was confused, upset and angry. Extremely angry.

"Sarah."  
I looked up to see Altair. This time he was solid, and real. I shot up, and glared at him,  
"Why the hell didn't you kill me?!" I snapped at him, clenching my fists, breathing heavily.

"You know I couldn't, even if I was physically able to. You should ha-"  
"I DON'T CARE!" I shouted, "What Andrew did to me was...was just fucking hell!"

Altair fixed me with a glare.  
"Why are you so angry at me for not killing you?"  
"Because I don't want to suffer!"  
"You didn't. You're still-"  
He stopped my fist as I went to punch him, and kept a firm grip. I tried with my other fist, but he stop that one too. I tried to wriggle my fists out of his clutched hands, but his grip was too firm. It actually hurt when I tried,  
"Ow! Altair! Get off!"  
"Can I trust you not to try to hit me?"

I gave him a glare,  
"Fine," I snapped. He released his grip, but as soon as he did so, I went to punch him in the ribs. He grabbed my arm, and twisted it around,  
"I thought you said I could trust you not to hit me," he said, but there was a smirk in his voice,"Or try to, anyway." I growled at him. Knowing how to get out of this, I kicked his knee with the heel of my foot. His grip weakened, and I used this to spin round again, and attempt to hit him in the face. He grabbed my wrist again, but I kneed him in the privates. He grunted, letting go of my fist.

I grinned at him, holding out a hand to help him up. He took it, but then wrestled me down,  
"Never let your guard down," he grinned "Didn't you teach me that?"

I smirked at him, remembering when I first joined the 12th Century Order in Masyaf. I'd kicked Altair in the groin to his surprise.

"Okay, fine, maybe you win."  
"Maybe?"  
"Okay, you win, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad. Just lemme up!"

He pecked my forehead, and let me up.

Then he actually looked at me,  
"You're twelve, are you not?"  
I nodded.  
"Even in less than a year...you've..." he licked his lips, trying to find the right word.  
I coughed a laugh,  
"Ha. I know what you mean. Thanks."

A fuzzy screen appeared. Oh look, I thought, another memory. Is it to be real? Or fake?

Fake.

I was 10 year old Elena again.

It was evening, so the sun was setting. Ezio was standing firmly on the ground, sending a fierce look to Vieri.

_Ahh, Vieri. You poor, arrogant soul, I thought._

I was told by Giovanni to keep an eye on my mischievous older brother, so I watched from the rooftops.  
"What are you going to do, Vieri?" spat Ezio,"You've got none of your men to protect you."  
"You use your wealth as a cover up, Ezio," parried Vieri, "You get into too many women's beds."  
Ezio glared fiercer at Vieri, if that were possible. He flexed his fists threateningly a few times. Vieri smirked.

I jumped down from the roof.  
"Ezio..." I warned. Ezio gave me an exhausted look before his glare returned.  
"Go home, Elena," he commanded.  
"No."  
"Now!"

Vieri was now grinning,  
"Aw, Ezio, did Mother dearest send little Sister to protect you?"  
"You can go fuck yourself, Vieri," I said, nearing him, "If you provoke one Auditore, then you provoke me."  
Vieri barked a laugh,  
"And why is that threatening?" he sneered.

Before Ezio could cut in, I whacked Vieri hard in the face, and then kicked him with all my strength in his parts. When he was on the ground, I kicked him a few times in the ribs. I stopped when I heard some cracks.

"Quick," I said, turning to Ezio, "There are some guards somewhere over there." I pointed to an alleyway.

I scrambled back onto the roofs, with Ezio, as we left the voices saying,  
"Master Vieri! Master Vieri!"

"I must say, Little Sister," said Ezio, when we'd got back to the Villa, "Molta bene."

I grinned at him.

"Who's Vieri?" asked Altair, in present times.

"Sort of like a Renaissance version of Abbas, but more of a dick. Oh, and has a Templar family or something."  
Altair nodded thoughtfully,  
"Why can I imagine that?" he said.

I laughed.

"Yeah...Ezio kills him...eventually."

"Not you two again," came a voice.  
"Speak of the devil," I muttered, "here he comes." I smiled at Ezio, "Hello there, _big brother_."  
Ezio gave me a confused stare,  
"You had those dreams too?" he asked. I tilted my head to the side slightly, confused for a brief moment, then nodded. "Well. I suppose that's what you are to me now, Little Sister."

He hauled me up into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of me,  
"Ouch...Ezio...lemme go...choking-"  
"-Si, si..."

I noticed that this Ezio wasn't as young as the one I've met before. He was in his mid-thirties, at the most.  
"Now all we need is that Desmond," joked Ezio.

"And Connor," I said,"Ra-doon-ha-kay-doon or whatever."

Altair and Ezio stared at me,  
"Who?" they asked in unison.

I bit my lip,  
"Never mind." I clapped my hands together, "Okay, boys. I have one rule- play nice. Don't fight or anything, okay?"  
"Yes, Ma'am," muttered Ezio, bowing his head sarcastically, "You have my word."

"Good. Cos' if I didn't, some serious ass-kicking would be involved."

Altair smirked.

"I... have some questions, child," said Ezio,"Do you think you could do your best to answer them?"

I sighed,  
"Later."

Now I glared at Altair for the same reason as earlier,  
"I'm still pissed with you," I said, glaring. Altair sighed,  
"You're always annoyed with someone, aren't you?" he said.

My glare grew darker.

"Sarah, please. Can you just...not be angry for a while?"  
"Huh. How's that working for ya?" I snapped.

Altair looked down at me, frowning. He opened his mouth and we began to bicker,  
"Can't you just let something go?"  
"No- why can't you? Maybe that's where I get it from-"  
"-Is that what you think? Really, Sarah?"  
"Yeah, and if-  
"-And if what?"  
"See-you obviously can't let it go!"  
"Neither can you."  
"And, like I said just now, that's probably where I get it from."  
"No. Traits are learned by someone's self. You learn by the people around you. I haven't been with you for a lon-"  
"-So you're just gonna..."

I heard Ezio sigh as Altair and I argued.

"-I'd hate to interrupt,"he cut in, after about five minutes of listening to arguing."The...moving picture thing...is over there..."

He pointed to the fuzzy screen.

* * *

**Desmond**

A few other old friends had joined the search for Sarah, and agreed to help her.

I took her back to the van, and laid her down onto a fold up table with a sheet over it.  
"Put this on the less-serious wounds," I was told, then handed some salve, and I began to rub some on a few of the lighter wounds. She yelled out.

"Desmond!" she cried, "Make it stop!"

"I'm trying! Okay? This will help! I swear."

Then she passed out. She was pretty injured- shattered ribs, snapped arm, a deep wound in the side of her stomach, cuts all over, and a cross marked on her tongue. She was covered in blood. The rare patches of skin that wasn't covered in blood were white. Plain white.

Damien and Diego worked hard to try and mop up the blood there was. They were trying to find out which wounds needed stitching, and which just needed antiseptic. Luckily, barely any needed to be stitched. Just one on her neck, the hole in her side, and a few in her thighs.

The one in her side...the knife had gone so deep, apparently puncturing an organ. Damien said he could sort that.

Becca wired Sarah up to Baby.  
"How the hell's that gonna work?" I demanded.  
"It'll work as a life support," she explained.

"She's not dying, God dammit, Becca!"  
Rebecca swallowed,  
"We can't take chances."

Kirsty sat in the corner of the van, watching everything. Shaun was passing tissues, and antiseptic oils to Diego, Damien and some others as they worked.

Dad, like Kirsty, was in another corner of the van, his arms folded, his eyes closed. I'd seen that look many times before. He was counting to ten, over and over again, taking breaths.

"Come on, Sparky," I muttered.

"Luckily, only a few will leave scars," said Diego, wiping a cut on her arm, "Believe it or not, most of these are thin."  
"Cuánto, el hermano?" asked Damien.

"Depende. No importa-"  
"-Qué?! 'No importa'? Creo que no!"

"Lo siento, pero, -"

"Speak English, boys," cut in Kirsty. "What were you saying?"

"I asked how many scars Sarah would have," said Damien.

"I said it depends and it wasn't important," said Diego.

"Then I said 'not important? I don't think so-"

"But you wouldn't let me explain that the most important thing was that she was alive."  
"Yeah, bu-"

"-She won't be at this rate if you two don't stop bickering!" complained one of the helpers. I was too deep in my thoughts to recognize who it was.

_What if she doesn't pull through? This is just like last time. I can't risk loosing her again. That's happened one too many times. This is my fault- I should have kept an eye on her-_

"Hey, Des? Y...you okay?" came a voice. A hand was placed on my shoulder. My head jerked up, to see a familiar pair of eyes. A ghost of a smile met my lips,

"Yeah," I replied, for his sake.  
He saw that I wasn't in the best mood, and said calmly, "She's gonna make it, 'kay? You know she will."

The kid even added a smile.

I took a breath,  
"Yeah. I know."

* * *

_**Eliza: Fact- Ra-doon-ha-kay-doon is how you pronounce Ratonhnhaké:ton. (Or Connor's birth name if you didn't know :3 ) XD You should hear Smeggi attempt to pronounce it.**_

**Yes...well...I can't pronounce 'Auditore' correctly, anyway either. Ibn-La'Ahad's fine. (See the irony there?) *hint, hint, part Arabian.**

**And I just realized something. *Facepalm* I spelt Federico's name 'Frederico'. Aye, aye, aye *exhale* That will be changed one day.**

**Spanish:  
Cuánto, el hermano- How many, brother?**

**Depende. No importa- It depends. It's not important**

**-Qué?! 'No importa'? Creo que no- What?! It's not important? I don't think so**

**Lo siento, pero- I'm sorry, but-**

**Italian:**

**Molta bene-Very good/Well done.**


	9. Reasoning

**A/N Why do the anonymous 'helpers' stay anon? Use your imagination for that. Unless I can think of a name for em' while I'm writing. (I write the first A/N before writing, so things might change.) T****hanks for the kind reviews, and advice. They are highly appreciated :)**

* * *

I didn't really pay attention to the screen. I just sat, my knees to my chest, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Why was I back here? Why were the real Ezio and Altair with me? Why did Ezio have matching dreams to mine?

Was this to do with the Animus energy that was still inside me? Or was it Clay's fault, again?  
When the scene had finished, I said,  
"Ezio. The questions."  
"Hm?"he sounded a little dazed by what had just happened.  
I looked up at him, "What do you need to know?"  
"Why am I having these strange dreams?" he asked, staring back down at me, "What are their causes?  
I sighed,  
"I don't know exactly. It's probably because of the bad reaction I have in the Animus is somehow responding and affecting you and Altair. Please don't ask me about the Animus. I wouldn't be able to explain."  
"I was not going to, if it caused you trouble."  
A small smile met my lips,  
"Grazie, mio fratello."  
"Di niente," he replied, reflecting the smile.

"Sarah," said Altair, "While we're here, we might as well go over some training?"

My smile turned into a toothy grin as I looked at Altair with pleased eyes,  
"I'd thought you'd never ask," I grinned. I stood up, stretched my arms, and looked at my ancestor for further instructions. He handed me two throwing knives.  
"I'll try to be easy on you," he said, drawing two for himself.  
"Laww smaht, Altair Ibn-La'ahad? La. The more pressure, the harder the worker."  
"If you say so, Novice."  
"Oh, so its competitive talk, now is it? I expect its nice not be called the Novice for a change. By the way- does Malik still do that?"  
"Wouldn't you like to know," chuckled Altair.

We circled each other. A few times, he tested my guard, slashing my side, which I dodged. I smirked, aiming a jab to his side, which he elegantly (yes, elegantly, there's really no other word for it) avoided.

He went for my head, and I ducked- just. I grabbed his arm, and attempted to bend it backwards, but he used his strength to push it forwards, making me stumble backwards.

He used this chance to wrestle me to the ground, as he pressed one knifepoint on my belly, the other on my neck.  
"I win," he grinned.

I frowned.

"Don't look at me like that."

I smirked,  
"Anyone would look like that if they lost to you, Novice."  
"Excuse me? I am not a Novice. I'm the Mast-"  
"-Yeah, yeah, whatever Altair. In mine and Malik's hearts, you'll always be a Novice. Now…uh…about getting up?"  
"Na'am, Na'am."  
He crawled off me, and as soon as he did, I pounced back on him,  
"Never let down your guard," I said, grinning. He reflected my smile as he gently pushed me off him.  
"Good girl," he praised.

I handed his knives back.

For some weird reason I suddenly felt tired. I yawned.  
"You're tired after that?" teased Ezio.  
"Yes, Ezio, I am," I replied, suddenly feeling annoyed, "After I was chained to a chair, stabbed and sliced in multiple places, including here," I stuck out my tongue, revealing the cross-shaped scar, " smeared in salt, and knocked down by a grown man who happens to be a master assassin."  
Ezio blinked at me as if to silently say 'wow'.  
"My apologies," he said.  
I sighed,  
"Don't be. It's me with the serious attitude problem. Not you."

I sat down, holding my knees.

"Sarah..."sighed Altair, joining me on the ground, "Do not doubt yourself."

Then, suddenly, I felt an extremely sharp pain in my ribs, then my arm. I bit on my tongue, preventing myself from screaming. I clutched my ribs, hissing.

"Sarah? Are you all right?" asked Ezio, sounding alarmed.  
"No...!" I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut, "It...it hurts! Hnngh!"

I cried out. Altair was alarmed- his eyes widened.  
Swallowing, I tensed, gasping again. Then the pain stopped, and I relaxed, breathing deeply.

"Okay...it's gone," I said, getting hold of my breathing.

I sighed, and rested my head on Altair's shoulder.

"It must be...scary," said Ezio, also bending down and perching on the ground.  
"Yeah."

"Yet you're brave."  
I scoffed,  
"Pah! Seeing as I was screaming my head of earlier- yeah, I'd say that's brave."  
Ezio pursed his lips for a moment, before saying,  
"You know what I mean."  
"No, I don't," I muttered.

"Yes, I think you do."  
I looked up at him, slightly confused on why he was so determined to win this stupid argument,  
"I actually don't, Ezio," I said, "So please, do explain."  
"You are an assassin," he said, "And most importantly, in our family line." He gestured to himself and Altair.  
"I know that," I said, rolling my eyes,"I've got the bloody scar to prove it."  
Altair snickered,  
"What's funny?" I asked.  
"Nothing...Maria's said someth-" he stopped himself.  
"No, go on. Don't think that I hate Maria, Altair. She isn't my Aunt. She's one of the reasons why I exist."  
Altair relaxed.  
"And no, Ezio," I said, just to make sure Ezio wasn't confused, "We aren't talking about Maria as in your mother, we're talking about Altair's wife. What were you saying, anyway?"

* * *

**Desmond**

By now, we'd arrived back at the house. Becca and Shaun carefully lifted the computers out of the van, whilst Damien carried Sarah, and placed her on the sofa in the living room. Becca had her wired up again, and Damien and Diego went back to bandaging my injured cousin.

The others started packing away the stuff they didn't need, such as bits of bandage, plaster and Band Aid wrappers.

I finished tying the bandage on my sprained wrist.

"This might hurt her," said Damien. He tightened the bandage around her ribs. You could tell he pulled them really tightly by the slight cracking and shifting noise. Sarah cried out, alarming us all.  
"Sh, sh, shh! I'm sorry!" apologized Damien,"I didn't mean to hurt you!"

The unconscious Sarah slowly relaxed, breathing unevenly.

"Desmond, you okay?"

I looked to the corner where the voice's owner was sitting."You're tensing."

"Yeah," I breathed, "But imagine how much pain she's in right now."  
"Yeah...hey, y'know what you need? Haysley."  
"Oh, ha-ha." I gave him a sarcastic stare, "Seriously?"

He tapped his nose,

"A little bird told how much you love your hay..."

"Yeah, of course he did. Ugh, that stupid Sparrow... But I don't need Haysley at the moment. I just need to know that my cousin will be okay."

"Hey, hey, c'mo-"

"-What's this about someone called Haysley?" jumped in Kirsty, seeming jolly. I frowned, then glared at my old partner. "Is she another thing to tease you about, Des? Oh wait...you mean hay, don't you? As in a pile of-"  
"-No, it isn't another thing to tease me about, Kirsty. Now, not to sound mean, but please fuck off, you good for nothi-"  
"Before you continue," she cut in, "I got Sarah some _proper _clothes. Only shorts and a top, but it's a break from the hand-me-downs you've given her."  
I blinked at her as she proudly held up a shopping back. She grinned.

"You're welcome," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "And...Des, c'mon, buddy, cheer up. In a few weeks, she'll be fine."  
"Yeah...but she's not even half my age," I said, "And she's nearly had as much experience."  
"Or you're just a Novice."  
I glared at her,  
"Fish," I teased. She frowned,  
"Stupid bald eagle!"  
"Bait."  
"Pudgy!"  
"Hash addict!"  
"Hay addict!"  
We continued insulting each other for a while, until Shaun sighed,  
"Oh, could you two twats please shut your bloody gobs?"  
"Yes, sir," Kirsty and I said in unison.

"Ow!" I complained, as Kirsty poked my wrist,"Hey, hey- quit it! That hurts!"  
"Fat wrist."  
"Shut it, smart ass."  
"W-"  
"Didn't Shaun tell you to shut up?" snapped dad.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Grazie, mio fratello- Thank you, my brother.**

**Di niente- You're welcome.**

**Laww smaht, Altair Ibn-La'ahad? La- Excuse me, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad? No.**

**Na'am, Na'am.- Yes, yes.**

**Additional Detail: The 'Sparrow' is Lex and he belongs to Thompsongunner91**


	10. Madness

All we had to do now is wait for Sarah to wake up. Rebecca un-wired her from the Animus, and Damien carried her upstairs. Kirsty tailed after him, and after that, Damien alone came back downstairs.  
"She's dressing the girl," he explained.

I sat on the sofa, my face in my hands.

She's going to be okay, I thought. She always is.

"Desmond, mate?" I looked up to see Shaun. "You 're okay, yeah?"  
I almost laughed. I'd been asked that too many times.  
"Yeah," I replied, "fine."

"You sure?"  
"Yeah."  
"Okay."  
He went back to tapping a keyboard.

Some of the others left, and Becca and Shaun went to meet a few people at my bar, leaving just Kirsty, Anna, Diego, Damien, Dad and I, with Sarah in her room. Someone went up there to check on her every now and again.

She's still unconscious now.

At the moment, it was my turn to watch. I sat in the chair by her bed, sitting, and watching her.

She looked uncomfortable- the look on her face suggested she was confused or in pain. Well, of fucking course she was in pain. She'd been tortured, for God's sake. _Well done, Desmond, as always, your logic never ceases to amaze me. _That's she would have said.

She groaned as she shifted in her sleep.  
"Desmond," she murmured, "Go away."  
I held my breath, and she just fell back asleep.

Well, at least she's alive.

My curiosity was struck when I noticed some wires sticking out from underneath her- The MP3 player Becca gave her. When it was Becca's turn, she must have returned it to Sarah.

Then I remembered Rebecca asking my dad if there were any songs Emily use to sing to Sarah when she was a child. To my surprise, Dad told her, and then Becca was straight to her laptop.

**Sarah**

"Ezio," I said, spinning around, and blocking a punch from him, "Surely Leonardo would agree, that modern weapons would be preferr-"  
"-I prefer old-fashioned weapons," he said, trying to knee me, "Leonardo is simply curious about new things."  
"Yes, but-"  
-"But nothing," he smirked, "I win the argument."

"Fine. But not this fight."  
"We'll see."  
I laughed, but then winced when I received a whack in the face. I ducked a swiped from the tall man, and went behind him, striking him in his back. M fingers throbbed painfully,  
"Jesus, Ezio," I complained, dodging his punched, "How much armor are you wearing?"

"Just enough so an arrow to the shoulder doesn't hurt much."  
"Ouch...yeah...I can tell."

I tried to kick him like I did with Damien, but he slid out of the way. I tried again, spinning around, but he shoved me, and I wobbled.  
"No fair," I muttered, trying to punch him. He did what Altair did; he grabbed my fist and squeezed. My jaw dropped open in pain, as his grip got tighter. I tried the other fist, but he did the same.  
"Fine, then, brother," I said. I kneed him where it hurts. Hard. His grip on my hands loosened considerably. I managed to shove him away.

"Can we call this a truce, please, Ezio?" I asked.  
"No."  
I groaned. He circled me,  
"You have to learn the weak points of your target," he said, "Yours is your left side, your back, and your shins."  
He jabbed my left side, and I was too slow to respond.  
"Ouch!"  
He smirked.

"Do not show your pain to your opponent," he said, "It makes them stronger."

He managed to tackle me down. I was stuck, pinned to the ground.  
"Can I be let up, please?" I asked, "You've won, haven't you?"  
"Technically, I have not one until you're dead. But..." He got up, "Seeing as I am not going to kill you, it's a draw."  
He helped me up.

Then...he and Altair just suddenly disappeared, without warning. They just dissolved in front of me, and I remained in the loading screen.

"No…" I mumbled, "Please…Altair…Ezio…"  
No response. Just the strange, blue and white blur._ I wasn't alone...I wasn't alone..._  
"No!" I was shouting now, "_DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE_! Not all by myself…"

_Why was I so worked up? What was wrong with me? I folded to the ground, my eyes wide, shaking in fear. Was I scared of loneliness?_ Yes. Terrified. Tears ran down my face, as I broke down, wailing.

_"Please!_" I begged into the nothingness, "Come back."

I tucked my head in between my legs, as an attempt to quieten my cries. It didn't work.

* * *

My head popped, up after what seemed like hours, to singing. A quick, Japanese song echoed around the emptiness.

_Kedarusa ga hora guruguru mawatte , watashi kara hanareru kokoro mo , mienai wa sou shiranai? _

Then my mother's face appeared in my head. Her fair hair tickled my face as she bent down, softly singing the Japanese song. It struck a bell in my head…where had I heard it before?

_Nagareteku toki no naka de demo..._

- 'Bad Apple' it was called. She picked me up as if I was a baby. It was almost real…it felt real…

_Yume miteru? Nanimo metinai? __Ataru mo muda na jibun no kotoba?_

_You should stay_, I thought in my head, answering the song, _please Mum. Don't go. Stay._

The image in my head smiled, and whispered,  
"Then I won't, love," she said.

But then, the sound of screaming filled my ears,  
_"YOU BASTARDS! GO FUCK YOUR FATHER'S ASS!"_

_A familiar chuckling,_  
_ "My, my, Andrew. She has such a foul mouth."_  
_ "I agree. She deserves to be punished doesn't she, Harrison?"_  
_ "Yeah, she sure does. What about that cute little girl she has-"_  
_ "Take me, you fucking cunts, but leave my daughter…Leave Sarah. If you touch her, then I swear, I will kill you!"_  
_ I heard Andrew chuckle,_

_"We'll need her later on. But for now…we need to punish you."_  
_ "Any ideas?" asked Harrison._  
_ "Get the fuck off!" screamed Mum._  
_ "Well…her foul mouth…how 'bout we stop that, eh, Harrison? Let's rip out her vocal chords."_  
_ "Great idea," there was a grin in his voice._

_I heard a dagger being sheathed as my mother…a fierce tigress…growled and snarled. It wasn't enough. There was a squelching noise…and an ear-piercing scream…then…thump._

_Harsh laughter could be heard, before it faded. Then there was the sound of pounding feet._

_"Oh, GOD! EMILY!" my dad shouted. "Emmie! Please...no!"_

"_NO! STOP IT! SHOW ME NO MORE!_" I cried into nothingness. I threw my hands over my head, muttering,  
"No more! No more! No more! No more!"

Then I looked up,  
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

My eyes were wide open in fear as I realized I was living a nightmare. Or was this a dream? It felt so real. Whatever it was, I wanted it to stop immediately. I felt so...so scared.

The walls were now black. Were there even walls? I can't recall. And the room was full of people- _oh, so there are people now?_

The people now had bright, blood-red crosses on their torsos. I scowled, charging at the Templars, ripping them apart with my hands and nails.  
When they were dead, by hands and clothes were drenched in blood. I grinned, looking at the red on my hands, and the black on the wall, and started smearing the blood on the wall. Like a toddler hand painting.

"See?!" I said, "You don't like being hurt, do you? How do you bastards like it? Let's use the pretty redness of your blood to paint the black walls..."

I started giggling like a mad man.

_Stop it, Sarah, this isn't me... You're mad. _

"NOT LISTENING!" I shouted, wiping my hand on the wall, grinning wider.

_ Were there two of me? A crazy side, and a sane side? Why had I gone mad? Was it the Animus? Okay, whatever- just stop it, okay? Block the madness out. _

"Haha! Why the fuck should I? Everything's so much fun!" I dabbed my hands against the wall, making handprints

_What about Altair? What would he say if he saw you in this mad state? Or Ezio?_

"I don't care. I can't see them, can I? They're both dead."  
_What about Desmond?_

I froze. Desmond. What would he say if he saw me like this? I tried to shake that thought out of my head...but I just couldn't. He would try to have me back to normal...if that's the case, then...

I screamed. A great pain filled my chest. What was this?

_A wake up call._

I don't get it...Why was my own body hurting itself? This is stupid.

_Yes, but it's the only way to get you to wake up._

And I did wake up. My eyes opened, as I saw Damien and Desmond.


	11. Yawn

**A/N Yeah, I apologize for lack of updates. I have a lot to deal with, outside this computer. Schoolwork, shenanigans at home, etc. Please bear with me, if I take a while to update. SO PLEASE STOP TELLING ME TO UPDATE...Pleasseeee? This story isn't gonna be updated as frequent as Child of None, and I'm sorry about that. But please don't leave! ^_^ I'll update as frequently as I can, I promise.**

**Guests...SHOW YOURSELVES...**

* * *

"How...how are you feeling?" asked Damien, before I had the chance to gain information about where I was.

My eyes slowly looked around. I was in my room, in my bed. There was a chair next to my bed, and a glass of water on the bedside table. My arm felt heavy, and I soon realized I was wearing a plaster cast- as well as new clothing. I wore a dark blue shirt with dark (almost black) shorts. Someone must have bought them for me.

I attempted to sit up, but was stopped by a sudden pain in my ribs. I had a tight bandage around my chest.  
"Sarah?"

My eyes looked at Desmond,  
"Hmm?"  
Damien smirked,  
"You're not fully awake yet, are you?" he said. I shook my head.

"Are...are you all right?" asked Desmond.

I glared at Desmond,  
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I've just been slashed and stabbed at for the last forty eight hours! Yeah- No Desmond, you stupid moron, I am bloody NOT all right!"

I clutched my side, wincing at the pain. Desmond seemed hurt. I sighed,  
"s...sorry, Des." I winced again. "Fuck!"

Damien placed his hand on my shoulder as I hunched up.  
"Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck...!" I repeated over again.  
"Breathe," said Damien. I nodded, taking deep breaths. I looked at my clothing again.  
"Kirsty got you the clothes," said Desmond.  
"Okay."

"Can you walk?" asked Damien. I shrugged, and tried to get out of bed. My head spun, and as I stood up, I wobbled. Damien immediately grabbed my arm, holding me up.  
"No," answered Desmond. I glared at him, and attempted a few steps forwards. I succeeded, but the pain in my side was to great. I shrieked as Damien picked me up, and placed me back in my bed.  
"Rest a bit longer, okay?"

I groaned,  
"But Damien..."

He smirked,  
"Sleep. Now."

"Do as the Spanish dude says, Sparky," instructed Desmond.  
I frowned,  
"Fine," I mumbled.  
They turned to leave.

"Hey, Desmond?"

Damien left, but Desmond turned around.  
"Yeah?"  
"Is...is your wrist okay?"  
"It hurts a little, but it's okay. Sprained, says Doctor Dammy."  
I let out a small, shaky laugh.  
"'Kay."

* * *

I dreamed again. Memories, again.

I was at Kate's house.

_"Okay," she said. "Shall we just, like, uh...Dance weirdly to music?"__  
"Katie," I groaned, "You know I don't dance."  
"Oh yeah? Well...I'll make you!"  
I giggled.  
She put her ipod on a speaker, and then the playlist on shuffle.  
Gangnam style._

_She grinned at me, and started jumping up and down, doing movements with her hands. I laughed, joining in. _

_The door opened and her sister, with her friends, came in. They stood there until the chorus came in, and then joined in with the jumping and giggling. _

_Her older brother peaked his head around the door,  
"Can you guys be quiet?" he asked. "I'm trying to study!"  
"Hey, killjoy," said Kate's sister, "Join in!"  
He sighed, but then he grinned, joining in._

_Two eleven year olds, three fourteen year olds, and one seventeen year old, bouncing in a small, warm room. It was actually quite fun. _

_Then, when the song ended, everyone apart from Kate and I left. We fell on the bed, giggling crazily._

Then it ended. Why did it end there?

_"Dad...I'm gonna have a bath, okay?"  
__"Okay, yeah, sure. But do you want some tea, first?"  
__"Yeah, can I have a cheese toasty, please?"  
__"Of course."  
__I ran up the stairs, and started running the bath. It was full when my dad said my toasty was done. I ran downstairs when my name was called, grabbed the sandwich wolfed it down quickly, and went back to the bathroom.  
"Try not to be sick!" called Dad.  
"Whatever!" was my reply._

Then I woke up. There was a dim light coming through my window...how long had I been asleep? Over twelve hours? I looked at my clock- Six-o-five AM. Was I tired? Kinda. I tried the task of getting myself out of bed without wobbled. I shook a little bit, because my legs felt as though they were going to give way, but I managed. Now to walk...

I took one cautious step forward, then another...and another. I relaxed as I realized I could walk. Not very quickly or stably, but I could.

I made it to the door. Level two, complete.

"Oh-ho, no- you go back to bed." I found myself being shoved backwards by Shaun.

"Hey!" I complained.  
"Bed."  
"But-"  
"Bed."  
"If you'd just-"  
"Bed."  
"Listen to m-"  
"Bed."  
"Shaun!"  
"Bed."  
"But-"  
"Upbupbupbup- Bed."  
"Fine." I climbed back into bed, and folded my arms at him as he left.

So the other Brit wasn't letting me get up. Great. At least three hours of boredom, and a prisoner of my own bedroom. I sighed. I guess I might as well see how bad the damage what. I stripped, and looked at myself in the mirror inside my wardrobe. I was covered in tight bandages and plasters- my legs and thighs, my neck, my chest, my hands. I stuck out my tongue, and saw a cross-shaped scar. I sighed. That was going to stay for a while, maybe even for life. My tongue felt weird...sort of numb. The taste in my mouth wasn't right, but I guessed I would have to grow used to it. I was pale, from lack of blood, but that's nothing new. I'm always pale. Even though I'm related to dark skinned, middle eastern assassins...I've always been pale and stereo typically British.

Even if I did get a tan, it was only a light dusting of brown. Nothing dark, not even close to Desmond's tone of skin.

I stared at the hazel eyes in the mirror as she frowned at me. Her golden-brown hair was messy, and her lips were a bright pinkish red, too high up her chin. Her body did this weird curve when it got to her hips...it looked weird. She had bony joints that stood out with her white skin.

She was me. And I didn't like what I was seeing. I was only twelve, and look how scarred I was! So many...at such a young age. What happened to kids having flawless skin? I rolled my eyes. Nope. I was just unlucky.

I got dressed again, and climbed back into bed, hoping to get about three more hour's sleep.


	12. Family?

**A/N Tried to update again. ^_^**

**Credit to Eliza.**

* * *

When I next awoke, the clock read 9:03. I'd been locked away long enough. I climbed out of bed, and slowly plodded to the mirror, sorting out my hair with my fingers, and then exiting my room. As I slowly walked down the stairs, I kept a tight grip of the banister rail. Uncle Bill sighed,  
"Sarah, go back to bed," he instructed. I frowned,  
"Why? I'm not sick. Just injured."  
"Sarah."  
"Uncle Bill."  
He reflected my frown at my attitude.

"Please," I said, "Just let me stay down here. It's like a prison cell up there."  
Uncle Bill exhaled,  
"Fine," he said. I smirked, as I finished climbing down the stairs, and sat in a scrunched up pile on the sofa.  
"Where's Desmond?" I asked.  
"At the bar. He's taking full shifts again, seeing as he owns i-"  
"-Wait, Desmond _owns _the bar, now?"  
"Yes."

I blinked,  
"Okay. Lemme guess- Becca, Shaun, Damien, Anna, Kirsty and Diego are over there as well...?"  
"No, Shaun and and Becca are arranging things with friends, Anna and Kirsty are shopping and Diego and Damien-"  
"-Are here!" came a voice from the kitchen.  
"Oh, joy," I muttered.  
"Sarah." Uncle Bill sent me a chiding stare. I shrank,  
"Sorry."

He looked at me carefully, as pain met my face when I moved on the sofa.  
"How much pain are you in?" he asked.

"Hnn?"  
"You're in pain. I can see that."

I sighed,  
"Yeah," I said, quietly, "It hurts a lot. Most pain I've felt in ages." I paused, "Well... physical...pain..."

Uncle Bill sighed,  
"Yeah."  
"Hey, Uncle Bill?"

"Hm?"  
"Why...why did my dad never tell me...about the Abstergo stuff?"  
"I...he..."  
"And I know you know the answer, so please, please, please tell me!"  
"He...he didn't want you to get hurt. He knew that you would..be mad at him, and even run away. He did it to protect you."  
I swallowed,

"Then why did you keep my dad's death a secret?" I managed.  
"I..." he sighed again,"I was doing it to protect you."

"How would keeping my own father's death from me be protecting me?!" my voice raised.

He stayed quiet.  
"I knew it. You just didn't want to tell me."  
"Don't...don't twist things, Sarah."  
"I'm not! You didn't want to tell me and you won't admit it!"

"Look, Sarah, just calm down," snapped Uncle Bill.  
"Not okay!" I snapped back. "I want to know!"  
"Fine. James told me to...to keep the news at bay for as long as possi-"

"-GREAT!" I yelled. "Well, isn't that great? I had to work out that my mum was dead, and my dad wanted me to work out that he was dead, as well? What kind of parent does that? Why didn't you tell me anyway? It's not like he was gonna pop out of his grave, if he even had one. That's just cruel!"

"It may have been cruel, but it was for th-"  
"-Don't you DARE say it was for the best! Because it made me suffer. The best isn't to make someone suffer! Ha. I should've let Andrew kill m-"  
"-No."  
The firmness of the no made me close my mouth. I stared the old man for a few moments.  
"I promised your dad I would take care of you," he continued,"So I am."  
I was somewhat confused. Uncle Bill was showing some sort of family affection... this was ...different...  
"Well he's dead now," I said quietly, half regretting what I was saying. Uncle Bill stayed silent.  
I bowed my head down sulkily, letting my hair hide my eyes,

"It's true though. There's nothing anyone can do to bring him back. He needn't have died. He could of stayed alive if you'd have helped. Who knows, in doing so we could've ended the Templars."  
"I don't like what you're suggesting, Sarah," said Uncle Bill, in a tone that made me feeling like a puppy being scolded. "I suggest for you to end the subject before you go any further."

I looked up, glaring at him.  
"And I don't like your deception!" I yelled the words once said by Altair to Al-Mualim.

My dad could be alive if Uncle Bill hadn't had let him get his own way. His death could have been prevented if Uncle Bill had done something about it.

_No Sarah- That's mean. It wasn't Uncle Bill's fault. Dad died for your safety. He did it for you, for Desmond and Uncle Bill._

Yes, but he could be ali-

_Look, for all we know. Desmond could be dead if Dad had lived. Abstergo would have attacked us with too many on their side. Just don't blame it on Uncle Bill, okay?_

No. I'm not convinced.

_Uncle Bill cares about you, no matter how much he covers it up with his non-existent smile. _

...

_Think about it, will ya, and stop being arrogant. You're turning into Altair._

By now, I had tucked between my legs as I sulked. No...it wasn't Uncle Bill's fault, I suppose...

But I loved Dad. I'd do anything to bring him back.

And Mum.

I wish I was normal. I wish I didn't have to be what I was.  
"Uncle Bill," I muttered. "I wanna know...is there anything else I don't know about mum and dad? I don't care what it is...Just tell me. Is there anything else?"  
"Yes," he replied.  
"Like what?"  
An expression of almost pain embraced his face. He took a moment to get a hold of himself before he said,  
"You...you had a twin brother."

I stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth open.  
"_WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?!"_

_This wasn't right. This was too random...Too sudden. This is a joke. He has to be joking. HE FUCKING HAS TO BE. _

"He was small. Very small. He died after a week he was born."  
I felt my breathing quicken. I swallowed,  
"What was his name?"

"Tyler."

I felt sweat gather on my forehead,  
"Why did no one tell me this before?" I asked. "Why did no one tell me I had a brother?!"  
"Because by the time you could understand, it would be too much for you."  
I pursed my lips, feeling a mix of emotions flood in: Confusion, anger, sadness, a slight bit of joy to know that I had a sibling...

But he was dead.

Why did Dad never tell me?

He...he should have.

He had a lot of chances to.

Why did he hide it?

Why did he hide a lot of things from me?

It wasn't fair. Why was I always the last person to find out about these things?

I snapped out of my thoughts when I realized I was crying. I snapped out of my thoughts when I noticed that I was being hugged by my Uncle.

_Wait. What?_

Yes. Uncle Bill was hugging me. Tough, smile-less Uncle Bill.  
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you this before," he said.

I just sat there, feeling kind of awkward, as I managed to stop my tears.

* * *

Desmond came back at about eleven am for a three hour break. I woke up as I heard the front door close.  
"Hnggg," I murmured, as Desmond sat down next to me on the sofa.  
"Hey, there, Sparks. How ya feeling?"  
"Shit."  
"Okay...how are your injuries?"  
"Shit."

I yawned, trying to stretch my legs, but thought twice when the pain came back.

"Owww..." I moaned. I curled into my ball.  
"So you're just gonna ignore me, Sparky?" said Desmond, in a jokey way, "Why? Are you pissed off with me or something?"  
"Yes."  
"Oh." He paused, "About what?"  
"About the fact you never told me I had a brother..." I mumbled.  
"Fuck. You found out. Okay...shit..uhh..."  
"Do me a favour and bugger off now, Des? Thanks, mate."  
"Jesus Christ..."

He moved from the sofa.

I snuggled my head into the pillow, and attempted to get another nap.

I dreamed, but it was only flashbacks from the previous day...

_Andrew smirked as he hooked a finger into my mouth,  
__"Look at me, when I'm talking to you!" he urged.  
I refused.  
"Do I have to tear that tongue out of your mouth?" he threatened, "I'm not afraid to do so."  
_

_His fist met my face at a force that made me cry out. __ By this stage, blood dribbled down my cheeks as well as tears._

_"Aww..." A thumb wiped a tear from my cheek. I tried to move away, but it was almost physically impossible. "And I started to believe you were a brave one."_

_He kicked my shin, and I winced._

_MAKE THIS END, I shouted in my head. PLEASE! _

_"Hmm...you might have one too many layers...I can't reach your skin."_

_I stared at him through wide, scared eyes, as his hands went to remove my hoodie. He managed to remove it without unlocking the chains. I was slightly relieved that he didn't go any further than that._

And then I woke up.

Ten to Twelve.

I saw Shaun tapping away, but he was the only sign of life.

_"_Hello Sarah," he said, as I sat up.  
"Hello Shaun."  
"You're awake?"  
"Well duh."

I stretched. My limbs felt a little less achy than earlier.

"You okay, Little Brit?"asked Shaun. I blinked at him,  
"'Little Brit'? Is that, like, my new nickname?" I smirked,"Suppose I should call you 'Big Brit', right?"  
He laughed.  
"Yeah," he replied.

"As for the answer to your question...no."  
"I'm not surprised. You went through a hell of a lot. Those buggers at Abstergo really know how to piss us off."  
"Ignore the bullies, Big Brit. Ignore them an they shall go away..."  
"I wouldn't count on that. Abstergo are everywhere."

"Take a joke, will ya?"

Shaun rolled his eyes, continuing whatever he was doing.  
"Oh, and by the way, I'm moving out soon..." he said, "Not that you would care or anything."  
"Hey, don't say that, Shaun," I replied, frowning. "What about the P.O.E?"  
"Nn'yeah, we've nearly got it."  
"Nearly?"  
"Yeah."  
I sighed.  
"I hate that thing," I said, "Shaun, why does...why does it react badly with me?"  
"I have a theory. It could be that the ones who came before decided that those whose bloodline is pure cannot control it. Perhaps they were afraid that it would host too much power? I don't know. But that's what I think."  
I stayed quiet. Shaun went back to typing.

_Could Shaun be right? Probably. But what if one of my ancestors did something to it to stop me from using it? It's silly...I know...but it's possible...Perhaps Altair did something, or maybe Ezio. _

_I don't know who else could have. Damn it! Why does the Apple have to be so complicated? I'm bloody confusing myself, here!_


	13. Crossroad

**A/N. Purchased AC3. Beat AC3. The ending...no. Just going to leave it at that.**

**Sorry for the wait. Schoolwork is crushing me, and I'm ill at the moment. Damn November...but I hope this chapter is worth it. **

**Hey, and how come I had no reviews last chapter?! Not impressed, guys. **

**Tell me what you think, and if you liked it etc :). **

* * *

I found my favourite pillow-Damien. He was fine with it, in fact, he suggested it.

He made a rather good pillow.

"How are you feeling?" asked Damien, whilst I rested my head on him.  
"Tired. But not as painful." He chuckled,  
"Ahh. My job as a pillow is working."  
"Haha. Yep."

I yawned. I was very sleepy, and I had been for the past three days. Maybe it's my body's way of getting better? If so, it was working.

"_Molto bene_," I muttered.  
"Hm? That's Italian..."  
"Oh well. It sounds like Spanish...so shut up."  
"Oy. I'll stop being your pillow."  
"Sorry! Joking!"

By now, I'd had the plaster on my arm off. Apparently, my arm wasn't too badly broken. Pfft. I heard it snap like un-cooked spaghetti.

* * *

The nightmares kept coming back. But there was a particular one that caught my curiosity.

A man appeared.

He was blonde, and had fierce features. Like he was angry, or permanently confused. A weird...voice...a woman's voice...repeated the words 'Daniel Cross', over and over again.

Daniel started laugh cruelly.

This dream wouldn't be so bad if he didn't suddenly torment me about my dad, then stab me. It felt so real. I had to keep telling myself it wasn't real. That _he _wasn't real. What if he was, though?

Who was this guy? I gathered his name is Daniel, and that he worked for Abstergo, but how did he appear in my head? When I woke up, I was dazed to see a gold light, before my vision grew clearer...did it have something to do with that bloody Piece of Eden? I know Shaun keeps it in his draw...so maybe...

I would pay attention next time he appeared...I would speak to him... But first, I would ask one of the other's who he was. I'd...I'd ask Uncle Bill, first.

"Who's Daniel Cross?" I asked him.

He froze, staring at me.  
"How did you find out about him?" he asked.

I stayed quiet.

"Sarah. I need you to tell me."  
"I've been having retarded dreams again. "

Uncle Bill sighed,  
"Don't say it like it's your fault," he said. "Now...as for Cross...he was a sleeper, like Lucy, but for the Templars, rather than for us. Abstergo messed with his mind-" rather like mine, I thought,"- And he was programmed to just kill assassins and do what Vidic said. They put a chip in the poor kid. "  
I stared at him for a few moments,

"You...you are serious, aren't you?"  
"Yes. Do you think I would be joking about something like that?"  
"No, cause' you never joke about anything," I muttered, before gaining a disapproving look.  
"An Assassin called Hannah," he continued, "Tried her best to help him. But he ended up killing her."

Rebecca, who was talking, suddenly went quiet. I looked over to her,  
"Hey, Becca?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You all right?"  
"Yeah...I knew Hannah...so..."

I blinked,  
"Oh...Sorry..."  
"Nah. Don't worry about it, Sparks."

* * *

I sat on the sofa, as usual, wearing earbuds. Rebecca had kindly put more songs onto my MP3 player, which I was grateful for.  
I flicked through them, and took a particular liking to 'Dance with the Devil' by Breaking Benjamin, and 'Comatose' by Skillet. I liked rock music more than pop, so what?

By now, I'd had most of my bandages off. I still had the plaster around my arm, but at least I was in less pain. I almost felt normal.

When I fell asleep, I planned to ask this Cross guy some questions. And so, that's what I did.  
"Who are you?" I demanded. Cross was sat on the ground, his back facing me. He turned his head, and smirked,  
"Stupid girl. You know who I am, well...who I was, anyway."  
"Cross."  
"Yeah. Well done."  
"Why are you in my head?"  
"Simple, really. The Apple."  
I stayed quiet.

"It fucks with our heads, see. We're similar like that. We're both fucked up."  
"Yeah, well, at least I'm not evil."  
He barked a laugh.

"Oh God," he laughed, "You...you think _I'm_ the evil one?" he took hold of himself. "_Niet_. How old are you? Like, twelve, thirteen? And how many of _us _have you killed without a second thought, hmm?"

"I...I hadn't...really..."

"Exactly."

"But you were programmed to kill! Couldn't you at least _try _to get a hold of yourself?!"

"It was too much the fight," he replied. "I simply couldn't be bothered."

I stayed quiet, as he turned around again, sitting still.  
"But..." I began.  
"But _what_?" he snapped.

I frowned, "But that's...that stupid. It's being a coward, you prick."

I took a sharp breath as he snapped, knocked me over, and held a gun to my head. I was scared, even though it was a dream.

"Do you think I wanted it to be this way?!" he snarled, "Do you think I _wanted_ my mind to be fucked with? Do you think I _wanted _to be a sleeper? And do you think I _wanted _to kill my girlfriend? No! I didn't! Heh, I've seen your mind, kid, and I know that _you _certainly didn't want it this way."

I stayed quiet, my eyes focusing on this pistol pressed against my forehead.  
"You're so easily scared," he jeered, "That's because of your past, isn't it, bitch?"  
I glared at him,  
"Watch your tongue," I hissed.  
"Naaw. What'cha gonna do? Send Uncle Bill on me? Desmond? Oh wait...they can't cos' I'm _dead_. The only one who can communicate with me at the moment is you." He smiled, "I can screw you up all I want and you won't die. Yeah. Sounds fun. Over nine months of boredom...and now this. Oh, and I'm not afraid to hurt a kid. Especially one like you."  
He lightly pressed the trigger,  
"This won't kill you. But it'll be fun, anyway."

I ducked out of the way

_Bang._

It missed. I ran.  
"A quick one, aren't you?" He grinned.

"Look, Daniel..I know what it's like!"  
"No you don't know what it's like!" he yelled, running for me.

God, he was quick.

"_They did Surgery on me._"  
He swiped at my head. I ducked.

"They didn't do surgery on you, did they? They just wired you up to that machine. To the Animus!" he cried.

I winced as he struck my side, then kicked my nose. Then, he thumped my head to the ground.  
"Nine months," he said. He raised his fist, I caught it, and kicked him in the stomach. I crawled, and ran.

"W...what about Hannah?" I called.  
"Don't remind me!" he growled. He knocked me over from behind. My face smacked the ground. "Do you think I _wanted _to kill her?!"  
"Why do you want to hurt me?!" I demanded.  
"Because it was Desmond who killed me." I was flipped over, and the gun was pointed at my head. I froze.  
"Daniel," I said. I sat up, and hugged him.  
"What are you doing?" he asked angrily, tensing. He dropped the gun, either surprised, or maddened.  
"You need one, asshole," I said, "Fuck, I didn't want to do this, cause' your a Templar and all that, I mean _were, _but..."

He suddenly relaxed, and stopped struggling.

"Would shooting me let your anger with Desmond go?" I asked, "For killing you?"  
I pulled away. He looked confused, and his hard eyes had softened.  
"What are you suggesting?"  
"That you shoot me. In the head." I pointed to my forehead, "Go on."

He stares at me.

I open my arms, "I'm an assassin. Shoot me."

He hesitates.  
"I'm the enemy," I said.

His cruel but confused eyes harden slightly, as he holds the gun to my head.

_I just have to imagine no pain...it's a dream...it shouldn't hurt..._

I close my eyes, hearing the loud bang.

Next I woke up.  
"Okay!" I said, climbing off Damien, "That. Is. _It!_"  
I quickly shuffled to Shaun's draws, and went inside it. Paperwork...folders...writing and- The Apple. I pulled it out, staring at it intently,  
"What the hell do you want?!" I yelled.

The Apple simply glowed a little but did nothing.

I groaned loudly.  
"Sarah!" snapped my Uncle. "Put that down and_ step away from it._"  
"No!" I snapped back, "_It's been pissing me off and I don't know how to deal with it_!"  
"Sarah," said the scruffy-haired Damien, "I'd do what he says. That object is dangerous."  
"_I don't care. I just want it to stop messing with my head!_"

_Your mind is an interesting place, child. I think it could come in useful._

I blinked. That voice...it...it was talking to me. I ignored the yelling of Uncle Bill and gazed at the golden glowing ball in my hands.

_You have seen a lot, in the short life you have lived. You seen your loved ones die before you, you were an experiment. Yet you're highly intelligent, and can stomach the physical and mental attacks that your life sends. Yes...Your mind is _perfect.

What do you-

"Sarah!" Desmond snatched the Apple and jammed it back into the draw. I hadn't yet came back into the world. He knelt in front of me, shaking my shoulders,  
_"C'mon,_ Sarah, snap out of it!"  
I slowly became aware of what was happening. My eyes looked at Desmond. I was confused...I was...just...

"What is wrong with me, Desmond?" I muttered, putting my hand on my head in confusion. "I...I...don't..."

"_Nothings _wrong with you, Sparks," he said. "Nothing, okay?"  
I took a few deep breaths,  
"Okay," was my quiet reply.

I stood there, taking a few breaths, trying to figure out what had just happened. What DID happen..?I wasn't sure...

Juno. She was talking to me. She,  
"Juno," I said out loud. Desmond turned to me, giving me a look in between annoyed, concerned, and angry.  
"What?" he asked.  
"Juno," I repeated, "Who is she?"  
"Whatever she asks, do not obey," said Desmond, firmly, "She is trapped, and plans to escape. If she does, the world will turn to ashes. She means to kill you and I to get her way. She made me kill Lucy..." sadness and regret appeared on his face, but he shook it off. "Do as I say all right?"  
"Y-yes, Desmond," I said, feeling like I was being told off. I hung my head- I hated that feeling...I always have, and I expect I always will.

* * *

_Shower._

I sniffed my hair, and made a face. _Yep. _I needed a shower.

Walking sleepily, I headed up the stairs, and towards the airing cupboard. I pulled out a few towers, and then went for the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, put the shower on, and stripped. I peeled off the plasters and remaining bandages.

Ugh. I was going to have some scars.

I looked at my body, peering around the underneath of my arms and legs. There would be definite scarring on my thighs and arms. On my stomach...not so much. I looked into the small shaving mirror- there was a long scar on my neck.

I frowned, before entering the shower. My muscles relaxed. I began scratching at my limbs, getting rid of scabs and skin.

* * *

**A/N Translations:**

**Oy- Hey.**

**Niet- No.**


	14. Childishness

**Kirsty**

Nearly everyone was in the kitchen. Sarah was making some coffee for herself, Rebecca had a mug in her hand, Desmond was leaning against the threshold, and Diego and Damien were talking. Bill, Anna and Shaun were out.

"Desmond."  
**  
**"What?"

"Never mind," I smirked. Desmond glared at me,  
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"  
"Possibly."  
"Definitely."  
"Nope."  
"Yeah."  
"I-"

"-Aww, look, " said Diego, "They're arguing like an old married couple."

Sarah snorted, then bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Desmond and I shot glares at the both of them.  
"Hey!" complained Sarah, "It's Diego who said it, not me."

She took a sip out of her mug, and made a face.

"Bitter," she said. Despite this, she took another sip.

"So, Rebecca," said Desmond, still frowning at Diego, "I was told that you and Shaun are going to England for some research, and then you're both going your own ways?"

"Yep," replied Rebecca, "I'm staying with a friend, after England."

Desmond stretched his arms,  
"_Ugghh._ So glad this is nearly over, " he said.  
"We're nearly there, Des, don't you worry. It's just Vidic that's in the way of us and the Hourglass..."

"Why do we need it anyway?" cut in Sarah, frowning, "You guys know it'll probably mess with my head."  
"Yeah, but Sparky," said Rebecca, "We need to know it's in safe hands. And I don't think that Templar hands are very safe, if the rumour about the Hourglass being more powerful is true."  
"That's all those bastards want, " said Diego, grimacing, "Power."  
"_Diego._.." Damien sighed.

"You okay, Sparky?" said Desmond, peering at his younger sibling-cousin, "You...you don't look so good..."  
"Hmn?" Sarah snapped out of her mini-trance, "Oh, gees, thanks. I was thinking."  
"Okay...may I ask what?"  
"_No." _The 'no' was sharp and immediate. She was giving Desmond an unnecessary scowl.  
"Sarah, don't look like that."  
"Hmph."  
Desmond sighed, and muttered under his breath, "Oh God, you're so much like Haytham..."  
"Who?" Sarah was glaring at him fiercely, now.  
"Ah-uh...Ratohnhake:ton's Dad..."  
"Who? Oh, Connor. Wouldn't just saying 'Connor' be easier?"  
"Habit."  
"Oh right. Animus." The glare faded, "But what do you mean that I'm 'So much like Haytham'? Wasn't he a Native?"  
"No, actually," said Desmond, "He was British. A Templar-"  
"-_What?!-"_

"-Shh, I'm talking," Desmond smirked. "He was British, that's the main thing. He kinda..." He gave me an 'Oh God, I'm gonna get busted for saying this' look, "He kinda acts like you...with your...attitude...and accent...and..all..that..."

The glare returned,  
"_So you're saying I have the same attitude as a dirty, rotten Templar Bastard?!" _

"Kinda."  
She growled at him, and took a step forward,  
"Oh-kay, Sparks," cut in Rebecca, stepping in between the two, "Haytham wasn't all that bad...he...uh...he was originally an assassin but was taken by Templars as a kid, and ...and he was very dignified and didn't toy with his enemies."

Sarah relaxed.  
"Fair...fair enough then," she said. But she still had that dangerous spark in her eyes.

I wanted to sigh, and roll my eyes, but I couldn't. I realized I had to be careful about what expressions and emotions I show, because Sarah is like some kind of leech when it comes to those kinda things. If she's pissed, and if someone shows one sign of being fed up because of her attitude, she attacks.

However, if someone she cares for is sad, but hiding it, she'd be over to them, asking what was wrong.

I sighed quietly, disguising it with taking a sip from my mug. She's a talented girl, I thought.

There was a peaceful silence among the assassins in the kitchen.

* * *

I leaned against the wall of the brick shed in the garden, as I watched Diego and Desmond wrestle. Damien was next to me, egging his brother on, and Shaun stood, with his arms folded, smirking like he was entertained.

Sarah walked into the garden,  
"What's going on- oh." She smirked, and stood over by Shaun.  
"Seriously," said Shaun, "They're like children."  
"You're telling _me_ that?" Sarah laughed.

The boys weren't properly wrestling. They were just sort of pushing each other around, and trying to pull the other to the ground, like two teenage boys on a trampoline.

It was extremely fun to watch.

Desmond let out a loud grunt as Diego tackled him to the ground. It was an invitation for a pile-up.

Well, Damien certainly couldn't wait. He rushed over, took off his shirt, and jumped onto the small pile.  
"C'mon, Shaun!" he called, "Don't be a baby!"  
Shaun rolled his eyes,  
"Well, if I have to..."

He put his glasses into the case in his pocket, and then he, too, joined the pile.

Sarah and I couldn't take it much longer. I went over and hopped on the pile of men. It was extremely childish, but hey: you only live once.

Holding her sides after laughing too much, Sarah also hopped to the pile.

"Okay, uh, guys?" rasped a squashed Desmond, "Kinda...finding it...hard to breathe, now...get off, please."  
"But it's so fun!" said Sarah, from the top of the pile.  
"Better do as he says," commented a sandwiched Shaun.  
"All right, then." Sarah pulled herself off, then she helped me come off.

I saw Bill folding his arms on the patio. He was frowning at our immaturity.  
"Oh, Uncle Bill," said Sarah, "Don't look like that."  
He replied with a 'hmph'.

As always, he was being his_ cheerful_ self.

* * *

**Sarah**

I decided to have a nap. I was exhausted, for some weird reason. Maybe it was the heat. It was late-May after all...

My wounds- they were fine, now. A few scratches, but overall, I felt okay. They didn't hurt too much.

Anyway, I think I dreamed another memory, because I saw Ezio angrily shaking Vieri's Dead body. (Either that, or I'd been secretly shoved into the Animus).

Ezio was mad. REALLY mad.

_"PEZZO DI MERDA!" he roared, "VORREI SOLO CHE AVESSI SOFFERTO DI PIU! HAI AVUTO LA FINE MERITAVI! SPERO CHE BRU-"_  
_"-_Enough,_ Ezio." Mario rushed to the scene, "Show some respect."_  
_"_Respect_?" growled Ezio, "After all that's happened? Do you think he would have shown either of us such kindness?"_  
_"You are not Vieri. Do not become him." He bent down to Vieri's corpse, and muttered words of respect, closing his eyelids.  
He handed a folder to Ezio,  
"Take this. Read it when you have the time. Our work here is finished. Let us return to the Villa."_

I'd...I'd never really witnessed enraged Ezio. He...he kind of scared me. I woke up soon after that scene. I looked at the clock on the wall- I'd only been asleep half an hour. Well...dreams are shorter than the actual time of sleep. I stretched, and felt something- I was covered in a blanket. I looked around- no one was in the living room. Everyone was in the 'garden', presumably wrestling or arguing.

I took a few breaths, as I listened to the gentle, quiet ticking of the big, round, silver clock on the white wall. I looked around, trying to re-orientate myself. I noticed a few empty, and semi-full mugs on the glass coffee table, and a few backpacks spread around the room, along with about three pairs of shoes. There were also Shaun and Rebecca's monitors and laptops and tablets spread around on tables, but I noticed a few moving-away boxes next to them.

_Oh yeah. They're leaving soon._

I could see the kitchen from where I was sitting, and there were mugs to be washed.

_Wow. Everyone's been having a lot of caffeinated drinks, lately. _

I looked at the rug against the wooden floor- stainless as always.

The room smelled slightly of coffee, and ...well...Uncle Bill. A sort of...not old man smell...he was in his sixties...a sort of soap-coffee-and-toast kinda smell.

No, not even that adds up to what he smells like. I shook my head. I was daydreaming again. But I felt calmer. I was actually relaxed. Happy. I wanted to do_ something._ Not sleep. No- I've done enough of that lately.

I took another deep breath.

I didn't want to go outside. I wanted to stay _here_. Where it was quiet. I think it's the most peace I've had in months. I yawned, a sudden hungover feeling overwhelming me. _Crap_. Well_ of course_ I can't stay happy for long. Fate doesn't like it when I am.

My head turned to the direction of footsteps.  
"You're awake," said Uncle Bill, starting to wash the mugs that needed washing.  
"Hmm...?" I blinked a few times, "Yeah."  
I yawned again. "Ugh." I rubbed my eyes, and then ran my hand through my hair. I hated that exhausted feeling after a nap.

I think I dozed off again, because I opened my eyes to Desmond's voice,  
"Hey, kiddo," he said.  
"Hmmm?"  
I was prodded lightly.  
"Okay, I'm...M'awake," I murmured.  
"All right...well...I'm going back to my bar. You wanna come?"  
"Yeah...yeah, one sec, just lemme get my shoes on."  
I stretched, and pulled myself up from the sofa, plodding around the room in search of my trainers. I eventually found them hiding.

"You sure you're awake enough?"

"Yeah," I said brightly, nodding.  
"All right, then. Shall we be off?"

I frowned at him for the English accent he attempted. He did a pretty good job on it, but still...  
"Nice try," I said, "But not good enough."  
"Damn, I was hoping I could pull off a Haytham." We left the house.

"A 'Haytham'?" I raised a brow as I climbed into the passenger seat of his car.

"Yeah. As I mentioned earlier, he kind has your voice. Try your best British Nobleman voice."  
I blinked,  
"Uh...Okay. What-o, peasants, yes, let's talk about buses."  
Desmond snorted,

"Yeah...I don't think Haytham would say something like that...but yeah, good job. Kinda like that."  
"Oh, good. I was mainly doing a Boris Johnson impression."  
"Boris Johnson? Isn't he that guy who's the mayor of Yorkshire or something?"

"Mayor of London, Desmond. And he is a total idiot," I suddenly went all serious, frowning, "He never knows what he's talking about, and the only reason why the people elected him is because they find him funny, and also he is-"  
"-now THAT is something Haytham would say."

I closed my mouth. I didn't want to be accused of being my Templar ancestor.

"Ah, hey," he said, "C'mon, it was a joke!" He cheerfully shook my shoulder.  
"Hmph."  
"Don't be like that. You'll turn into my dad."  
I gave him a panicked stare,  
"I don't want that to happen!"

He barked a laugh.

"You're serious...Oh my God..."  
"Shut up." I scowled.  
"Maybe if-"  
"_SHUT UP." _

"All right, all right...fine."

There was a silence between us for a while. Nothing but the sound of the car's gentle humming.  
"Hey, Des?" I said. "Can I ...Can I ask you a question?"  
"Yeah, sure," he replied.  
"Do you have a girlfriend?"  
He was quiet for a moment,  
"No," he finally answered.  
"Loner," I teased, "So then you're a vi-"  
"-Look, Sarah, I'm not gonna talk about this. Not with you."  
"But-"  
"-I said no."  
I frowned, and he sighed,  
"But...if you're...uh...Interested in finding...out about ...more about that kinda-"  
"-EW, NO. DESMOND. SHUT UP. STOP TALKING. KEEP DRIVING. EW."  
He smirked,  
"Glad that's covered."

There was another few moments of silence.  
"Hey, can I ask another question?"  
"Sure. As long as if it has nothing to do with sex and relationships."  
I frowned at him,  
"You don't usually offer to take me to your bar. And anyway- I thought there were funny men in bars."  
"There's funny men in all bars, dear cousin," he replied, smirking. "I'd just thought it'd be something for you to do, rather than to sleep all day."  
"Okay..."  
"And 'sides, there's other Assassins who visit regularly. And I mean REGULARLY." He scowled, "And some of em' are annoying as hell."

Once again, there was silence.

"And maybe you...could live with me one day," Desmond piped up.  
I stared at him,  
"What?"  
"It's easy to tell that you're bored at Dad's."  
"What about training? Education?"  
"Yeah. We'll sort something out. I mean, you don't have to give me an answer straight away."  
I thought about it, and shrugged,  
"Nyeh. Maybe."  
He smirked,  
"Aw, c'mon! 'Maybe'? You love me, remember?"

He nudged my shoulder playfully.  
"Right?" he said," Or do ya love my dad more?"  
"I love both of you..." I said, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. Desmond laughed.

I continued on with my sentence, "But...but what if Uncle Bill doesn't agree?"  
"We'll sort it out- I promise," he promised.

* * *

I stretched my legs, sitting in front a stack of bottles. Only a few groups of people were actually at the bar.

Desmond got chatting with a group of men. By the scars on their faces, I guessed they were Assassins.  
"Aw!" said one of them, spotting me, "And who is this sweet young'un that you have yet to introduce to us? A sister? A daughter? Come on, Desmond!"  
Desmond snickered.  
"Baby British cousin," he said, shooting me a smug look. I frowned at him. "Don't look at me like that, Sarah."  
"Hnnnn..." I grunted.  
"Anyway, guys, she may look cute, but seriously- the amount of Templar heads she's claimed is...just wow. We're running out of room in the garage."  
"Hey!" I complained, "It's...not that many...Just...just a few..." I shrank under their stares.  
Desmond snorted, reaching over and ruffling my hair  
"I'm not a dog," I mumbled childishly.  
"Yeah, yeah." He went back to talking to the other assassins. I yawned, but I wasn't tired. Despite this, I day-dreamed.

_When I went into the Animus a few weeks back, Ezio was writing his death letter to someone called 'Sofia'. Presumably his wife. _

_It was probably the sweetest, yet saddest thing I'd ever read: _

_"When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it...I had time, but I did not know it...and I had love, but I did not feel it. Many decades would pass before I understood the meaning of all three...And now, in the twilight of my life, this understanding has passed into contentment. Love, liberty, and time - once so disposable are the fules that drive me forward, and love was especially mia caro...For you, our children, our brothers and sisters, and for the vast and wonderful world that gave us life and keeps us guessing."_

_At least he'd realized that there was more to life than women, revenge and murder. _At least he grew up.

_And as for Altair. He'd learned his lessons. But he had one that he'd yet to learn- To leave things alone. To leave the Apple alone. _

_At least they both died peacefully._

I exited the bar and headed to the toilets again. I couldn't help it. Tears just streamed freely down my cheeks without my control. I took some deep, but jagged breaths.  
"Okay," I muttered to myself, "Get a hold of yourself. C'mon, what would dad think?"  
I took another few breaths, and wiped my eyes.

But they didn't stop leaking. This was because I kept going over all the downs of my life in my head.  
_Mum snarling, as her throat was torn off her neck..._

_Dad standing tall, and proud as the bullet entered his chest..._

_Altair sitting peacefully in the throne-like chair, a memory disc in his hand, as he swallowed his last breath..._

_Ezio sitting on a bench, looking out towards his family, his breath getting stuck in his throat as he passed..._

_All the hugs and cuddles I'd exchanged with Katie. All the laughs, and secrets, and fun..._

_My class, the guys I had a laugh with..._

_All of that. Gone. _

_Almost everything that I held dear was gone._

This isn't helping. Not at all.

I sighed, sitting on the toilet lid, scrunching my knees to my chest, and tucking my head in between my legs. I'd just stay here until I've stopped crying like a little kid.

There was a knock at the door,  
"Sparky, you're crying over something in there, aren't you?"

"M-m-maybe," I replied.

I heard a sigh.  
"I'm sorry, D-Desmond...it's a c-chain react-tion. One thought l-leads to an-another."  
"You can't help it. Don't apologize."  
"But-"  
"-Sarah, please just open the door."  
I stayed quiet, as I wiped my eyes once more, and got up, un-locking the door. I opened it.  
"Come here," he said, indicating for a hug. He wrapped his arms around me for a few moments. "Better, you little idiot?"  
"A bit, you big idiot."

"How does that phrase go...? 'Suck it up'?"  
"I think so." I wiped my eyes again.  
"Should I take you home?"  
"Yeah please."

* * *

**Translations.**

**PEZZO DI MERDA! VORREI SOLO CHE AVESSI SOFFERTO DI PIU! HAI AVUTO LA FINE MERITAVI! SPERO CHE BRU..._-_PIECE OF SHIT! I ONLY WISH NOW THAT YOU SUFFERED MORE! YOU DESERVED YOUR END! I HOPE THAT...-**


	15. Tension

_A week later._

Again, there was a family argument. Desmond and Uncle Bill were yelling at each other, and I'd somehow gotten involved.

Shaun stopped Anna from interfering, telling her that we'd sort this out.

God knows how the row started, and Allah knows how or when it's going to end.  
"So you're blaming me? Oh, so now it's _my fault? _The one who raised you, fed you, kept you aliv-"  
"-Yeah, but you didn't do a good job at it all! Desmond, run! Desmond, climb! Desmond, get up from your ass and do something!"  
"-I don't know why _you're_ complaining!" I said, "I thought you two'd patched things up, and here you are- Shouting for no reason!"  
"Oh, come on, Sarah, it's not for no reason," hissed Desmond, " You know that."  
I frowned, but before I could say anything, Uncle Bill cut in,

"Don't get her involved in this, Desmond," he snapped, "She's done noth-"  
"-Oh-ho,_ really_? She's caused us all this trouble-"  
"-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING, DESMOND?" I yelled, "First, you were all like 'Oh, you can't help it, Sparky, it's not your fault those bastards wanna kill you so bad', and now you're like, 'oh yes, is all your fault for being kidnapped and fucking tortured'!"  
"Yeah, but if you hadn't gone to look in the garden then-"  
"-Oh, just _shut up,_ will ya? Your argument is pointless."  
Desmond scowled, then he stormed out of the front door. A few seconds later, the sound of the ignition of a car was heard. My angry gaze returned to Uncle Bill.  
"Also, I take it what you told me the other day wasn't all of the info?" I said.  
"What are you talking about?" he asked, folding his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.  
"I'm talking about when you told me about my brother and other stuff I didn't know. I take it there's _more _information that you've been loving keeping away from me."  
Uncle Bill let out an impatient sigh,  
"Fine. Right. You know when you were unconscious for a while, a few months back?"

"Yeah? What about it?" I sensed I wasn't going to like what I was going to be told.  
"Well...it wasn't a week you were out. Neither was it two weeks."

"What?! So instead of being comatose for a week, I was for about a bloody month or so? That's why I missed everything about Connor? About the Ones that Came Before, Juno and Minerva? Why the hell haven't you told me this? Why weren't you and the others honest?!"  
"Because we knew you'd be like this."  
"No. You were wrong in thinking that!"  
"I wa-"  
"-YES YOU WERE."

We glared at the other for a few moments.

"Why can't you just admit that you were wrong, for once?!" I yelled."Why can't you just admit anything?! You stupid old man! Heck, you're just as bad as those Templars!"

"That's enough out of you!" snapped Uncle Bill. He raised his arm. I cowered back, squeezing shut my eyes, preparing for the sharp burst of pain.

_Smack._

I felt my temple and my cheek throb painfully, as I stared at my Uncle through shocked and confused eyes. He just stared back, no emotion in his face whatsoever. I looked away, not sure what just happened. It didn't hurt much...but...

_He'd struck me. He'd hurt me intentionally...  
_

Rebecca looked at the situation, seeming to be shocked herself. She rose from her seat, but Shaun came over to the scene first,

"Bill," he said flatly, "I think...I think it's best if you leave the room for a moment, okay?"  
"Yes," replied Uncle Bill. He turned and left.

Shaun crouched down, looking at the red mark on my face,  
"Are you all right?"  
I shook my head, swallowing a lump in my throat. I reached out, and hugged the other Brit.

"I...I don't understand, Shaun," I whimpered. He sighed,  
"Yeah, know what's it's like. Trust me."

I whimpered again.

He pulled away from the hug,  
"You'll be okay. You're a brave girl, eh?" He patted my head.  
I gave him a minuscule smile,  
"I'm not a three year old, Big Brit."  
"Yeah, sometimes I wonder about that."  
"Oi. Careful there, mate."

He helped me up, as the normal mood began to set again.  
"He's already done this to Desmond," he explained, "He accused him of the same."  
"Yeah, well he would, wouldn't he?" I frowned.

* * *

Desmond came back about ten minutes later. He seemed calmer; more relaxed.

"I'm back," he called from the door.

"Hey, Des," called Kirsty and Damien in unison from the kitchen. Desmond entered the living room,  
"Sorry," he apologized, "I...shouldn't have lost it..."

He stared at my face for a moment, "Hey, why is your face red? Did ya walk into a door or something?"

I stayed quiet, giving him a fake smile.

Shaun (who had froze on the stairs when Desmond asked this question), placed his hand on Desmond's shoulder, and muttered something to him.

Desmond's pupils grew smaller, but his face remained impassive.  
"Dad? Can I speak to you for a sec, please?"

Uncle Bill rose from his seat, and followed Desmond to the guest bedroom. I tried to concentrate on what they were saying:  
"Did you hit Sarah?" Desmond's voice.

There was a silence.  
"You did, didn't you?! Why the hell would you do that? She's just a kid, for fuck's sake!"  
"She smart-mouthed me."  
"That's no excuse."

I was surprised he didn't say 'She smart-mouths everyone.'  
"Look, Desmond, she accused me of-"  
"-Being no better than those Templars? Yeah. She would, wouldn't she?"  
"What are you implying, Desmond?"  
"I'm implying that I was right. But that's still no excuse to hit a fucking kid. You haven't changed one bit, have you?"  
"I was-"  
"-Annoyed? Angry? Dad, whatever emotion you were feeling, it's still no excuse to hit a small girl like her. You of all people know what's she's been through, and then you add to it by abusing her? And think. What would James say if he was still alive and found out that you hit her as a punishment?"  
"I regret it, Desmond,"  
"Then why didn't you stop yourself?"  
There was more silence.  
"Just don't do it again, okay? Or I'll do something about it." Desmond's voice was cold and threatening.  
The door opened and both men stepped out of it. I stared at them, inspecting them carefully. Both of them had straight faces.

Shaun and Becca caught each other's eye, made a look on their faces that kids have when someone's getting badly told off by a teacher. That sort of bit-lip, 'oh my Goodness, they're getting their asses kicked' kinda look.

"Get your coat, Sparks," said Desmond, "I'll take you to my bar for a bit, so things can cool down, okay?"  
I nodded, hopping up from my seat.

* * *

_At the bar._

Desmond stared at my face, and frowned,  
"It's bruising," he said.

"Hey! Desmond!" called a drunken voice, "Stop fussing ova that girl and pour me 'nother drink, now would be good!"

Wow. A drunk guy just after lunch. His life must suck, I thought.  
"Hey, my cousin's more important than your fucking drink," snarled Desmond, "So I suggest you shut up, before I shove my foot up you ass so hard you go flying halfway across fucking America!"

"All 'ight, all 'ight. Keep ya head on!"  
Desmond murmured curse words, before standing up,  
"I'll get you some ice so it won't swell, okay?"  
"Desmond, it was just a whack around the head, it won't s-"  
"-just in case, Sarah."

I frowned,  
"Fine."

He smirked, and ruffled my hair, before disappearing.  
"I'm not a dog!" I called.  
"If you're not a dog, then why d'ya let me call you 'Sparky'?"

I scowled,  
"Asshole!"

A minute later, I felt the cold chill of ice on my face.

"I don't know what he was thinking," said Desmond. His face slowly formed into a scowl.  
"Desmond," I complained,"Please. Just forget about it, mate."  
"I can't, Sarah. He's supposed to be your carer, and there he is, hitting you-"  
"-It was just once-"  
"-_That's not the point._"  
"_Desmond." _I put my hand on his arm, "Look. Please stop talking like that. You sound like my dad and frankly, it's giving me the creeps. You're my big-brother cousin-person. So stop it..."  
Desmond sighed,  
"Yeah...sorry."


	16. Play

**A/N Sorry for not updating for a while ^_^ I've had a lot to do, family businesses etc. ****And hey, it's kind of like the punishment for not seeing very many reviews ;_;**

**I still love you all, by the way. Thank you for your kind support so far. I'm not anywhere near finishing yet. This story could go as far as thirty to forty chapters, but I promise you it will be less than Child of None. And the stats are better on this story- 37 reviews for 15 chapters :3 That's half of what Child of None got in 55 chapters. **

**Thank you, again. **

* * *

We were getting closer.

Closer and closer to retrieving the Hourglass.

Shaun and Rebecca seemed excited. I, however, was terrified. All those things the Apple did to me... the Hourglass would be twenty times stronger.

_ I might go mad. I might go totally insane. _

* * *

I told Desmond not to, but he confronted Uncle Bill about the possibility of me living with Desmond.

To a great surprise, Uncle Bill said: "We'll see."

Though, later on that day, I heard them yelling. I sat outside the spare bedroom, listening to their argument:  
"Desmond. I'm her carer-"  
"-_Bullshit_. She needs someone to be her dad. Not her brother. Her dad. And you're not doing that job very well."  
"You of all people know I...I'm not particularly good at parenting."  
"Precisely. That's why you have to try again. If you fail, then I'll no other choice but to take her with me."  
I heard a low, almost-growling noise.  
"Fine. _Fine."_

Father and son emerged from the bedroom. Uncle Bill had an impassive look on his face, however Desmond had a scowl on his face.  
"Des," I said, tugging at his sleeve.  
His face lightened up,  
"Hey, kid. Didn't see you there."

I set him with a worried stare. He sighed, bending down to my level,  
"We'll sort things out," he said, "Don't you worry."  
"I'm not."  
"Then everything's fine."  
"Yeah...yeah..."  
Desmond let out a small laugh, ruffling my hair,  
"Then why do you look so miserable?"

I grumbled in response, shaking my head to get his hand off my hair.

* * *

"Hey!" I complained, as Damien shoved me lightly.

We were in the garden, seeing as it was another hot day. Damien smirked, and chuckled, shoving me again.  
"What are you, three?" I teased, returning a nudge.  
"Mentally...yes."  
I laughed.

We played a little game of hit-and-run, pushing then running away from the other. Damien was very good at it. I wasn't as great.

When it was my turn to shove him, I reached out, but he jumped back, so I stumbled over. From the floor, I tried to grab his arm, but he dodged again. I got up, managing to jab him with my finger, and leaped backwards, out of his reach. I hurt myself, but I ignored the pain.

I shot up, and dodged again.  
"Ahh...you're getting good at this," commented Damien, leaping for my shoulder. He missed, and was now on the ground. I laughed at him My laughter was cut off as he quickly crawled forwards, tapping my foot.

"No fair!"

"Yeah it is."

I rushed to tap him, but he grabbed my wrist, and flipped me to the ground.  
"I win!" he said, grinning.  
"No-Ouch."  
He helped me up.  
"My go!"  
Diego suddenly rugby-tackled his brother over. Damien let out a noise that was halfway between a yelp, and laughter. I snickered at the sight of the two brothers.

"My go!"

I though Desmond meant the two brothers but oh no. I was the target. I wince as I'm knocked over and pinned down.  
"Hey!" I frowned.  
"Surprise?" Desmond laughed.  
"That's not funny."  
I writhed around in his grip. My knee popped up, and I kneed him in the stomach. That got the asshole off.

I stood, ready for an attack.  
"Come on, then!" I urged.

"No, no...lemme take my time, Sparks."  
I scowled, then stuck my tongue out at him.

Instead of laughing, he frowned a little.

_Oh yeah. The scar._

To discard of the awkwardness, I swung my fist at him. He dodged, twisting my fist behind my back. I elbowed myself free, and then kneed him in the privates. I then elbowed him on the spine, and shoved him down.

"All right, all right! You win! Yikes..." He stood up, stretching his back."You've been holding back all this time, huh?"

"I can say the same for you."  
He laughed,  
"Ha...true that."

We looked over to Diego and Damien, who were still wrestling. I looked at Desmond, and smirked. He reflected the smirk and nodded.

"Diego. Wasp!" I called.

"Huh?" he poked his head up, and Damien pounced on him, winning the fight. "You did that on purpose, Sarah!"

I burst out laughing, as Damien lay flat-out on his brother.

* * *

**General POV.**

Later that day, the young Spaniard and the English girl were at their 'hit and run' game again. The others watched them, laughing at them.

The only one who wasn't laughing was Desmond, and unfortunately for him, Kirsty noticed,

"Jealous, Des?" sneered Kirsty, to a frowning Desmond.

"What-Why?"  
"Pfft. Because of Sarah's sudden close brotherly-sisterly relationship with Damien."  
"…"

"You are, aren't you?"  
"No…"tried Desmond, "Just…a little annoyed."  
"Annoyed?" laughed Kirsty, "Ha, you seem like you want to tear Damien's head off."  
Desmond glared at Kirsty.  
"She doesn't even get mad at him," she continued.  
"Look, just shut up, okay?" growled Desmond, clenching his fists.  
"You're a grown man, Des. It's time to grow up."

The pair looked at the Spaniard and the Brit. Sarah was grinning at Damien, jumping around him, ruffling his already-ruffled hair, while he tried dodging her.

Diego stood, watching the pair with amused eyes.

"My brother is good with children," he said, "Desmond, don't feel bad."  
"I'm…I'm not…"  
"Ah, but I can tell. You think that because the girl's gone to play with my brother, she's got bored of you…"  
"That's not true, Di, don't twist the truth."  
Diego smirked and tapped his nose.  
"W..w-You're just making it seem worse than it is!" complained Desmond.  
"No, you are," replied Diego, "You keep going on-"

"-Okay, fine. Let's all shut up and watch the pups play."

Kirsty snorted, "Douche."  
"Bimbo."  
"Dick."  
"_Guys_," complained Diego, "Grow the fuck up!"


	17. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**A/N I Could really do with some reviews for this chapter :3 Sorry there's a really depressing section near the bottom. This should explain why (take out the spaces):**

**nellyandeliza-chan. tumblr / post / 40956305267**

**And a lot happens in this chapter. A lot. I think it really should be three chapters, but oh well... **

**Thank you for the support so far, guys ^u^ Your kind words mean a heck of a lot to me.**

* * *

**Sarah **

Like many times before on a Tuesday night with nothing to do, I was granted the access to behind Desmond's bar.

"Wait..." I said, "Des?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Why...why is there a mic? And a stereo? And a projector?"  
Desmond laughed,  
"Don't you remember? It's open-mic night!"

I stared at him, then groaned loudly, digging my face into my hands,  
"Ohhh, crap, crap,_ craaap_..I don't wanna hear this..." I shook my head. Desmond laughed again- I looked up,

"You seriously want me to sit and listen to a bunch of wasted assassins singing out of tune?"  
"Nope, but that's the plan."  
"_Ugghhhh._" I hid my face again.  
"Heya, Desmond. Haven't seen you in a while."

There was a voice. To me, it had a slight French tint to it, but still, I didn't look up. I heard Desmond chuckle,

"Jace, buddy!" There was the sound of a hand patting a shoulder, "I thought you were in Europe?"  
"Yeah...well...moved to NY because of ...uh...y'know..."  
"Pack reasons?"  
"You could say that."  
The was a pause,  
"What's up with the girl?"  
"N'yeah...It's Karaoke night."  
"Oohh," the Frenchman took a sharp intake of breath, "Count me in. Give me some shots, and send me away!"

The men laughed.

"You alive, Sparky?" Desmond patted my head. I groaned, looking up,  
"No."  
"Okay, you just be dead there..."  
"Okay."

"Who's the girl to you?" asked Jace.  
"Little cousin," replied Desmond.  
"Are you the carer?"  
"No. But that's what I'm planning to be."

Jace set Desmond with a concerned stare,

"Why? Has something happened?" he asked, eagerly.  
"Dad hit her."  
"I...I see..."  
"Yeah."  
The two glanced over at me. I gave them an innocent, toothy grin,

"She's a sweet one- I can see that," commented Jace.

"Yeah-but-she-also-has-a-sour-side," grumbled Desmond.

"So do you!" I called back.

"Kya-ha-ha!" Jace laughed.

_A few hours later._

The time was about nine pm. People were standing on the tables, cheering by now. Desmond had balanced himself on top of the bar's surface, and I hid in the corner, my hands over my ears._THESE PEOPLE WERE FUCKING TONE-DEAF._

"Sarah, come on up here!" Desmond patted a place next to him on the bar table.

"NO THANKS."

"C'mon, it's fun-"  
"-NO THANKS."

* * *

The next morning, I awoke on a sofa. Groaning, I sat up, feeling extremely disoriented with a migraine.  
"Mornin', kiddo," greeted Desmond, wearing his 'pajamas'- boxers and a shirt. He went over to the kitchen unit, and began to make himself a coffee.  
"_Ughhhh..._"  
"I guess not."  
"Last night was karaoke night, right?"  
"Yeah."  
I groaned again, hiding my head under a cushion.

"Headache?" he asked, sitting on the end seat of the groaning was his response. "Sucks, huh?"

More grumbling.

"Well, I guess what you're experiencing is kinda like a hangover. Welcome to the 21st Century, Sparks."  
"I don't wanna be in the 21st Century..." I muttered from under the cushion, "I liked the 12th..."  
"Yeah, me too."

I took the cushion off my head and threw it Desmond.

"Ouch."  
"Yeah. That better'd hurt."  
"It did. The metal bit hurt a lot."  
"Good."

My head began to hammer again, and I let out another loud moan,  
"Desmond..."I said, "You don't by any chance have any...what's it called.." I waved my hands about as I tried to think of the word,"painkillers?"  
"Are you old enough to take some?"  
"I'm twelve. I can take half a tablet."  
"Okay, fine." He set down his mug, and headed out of the room, toward the bathroom.

Something hit me, and it wasn't my migraine-I'd never been in Desmond's apartment before. It was quite capacious; the living room and kitchen were one room, and there was a unit that looked like it worked as a dining table, but knowing Desmond, he probably used the sofa. There were three other doors in the room- one I guessed led to the bathroom, another to Desmond's room, and a third perhaps to a spare bedroom.

He returned, and quickly poured a glass of water, and handed the pack of pills and water to me.

"So this is your apartment?" I asked, after taking a painkiller. Desmond rolled his eyes,  
"_No!_ It's Shaun's- Nah, it's mine."  
I frowned at him,  
"Y'know, sarcasm really doesn't suit you."  
"Aw, well, that's too bad, cause' I kinda like it."  
"Hmph."  
"Again with the dad thing."

I used my fist instead of the cushion. He easily dodged, and I fell forwards, face planting into arm of the sofa. Hard. My nose whacked the arm, and almost immediately, blood dripped out.  
"_Motherfuckin' OUCH."_

Desmond smirked guiltily, "Sorry."

He went back to the kitchen unit, pulled off a paper towel from a roll, and handed it to me. My nose hurt when I touched it with the towel.  
"o_uch!" _I complained, baring my teeth at the stinging and aching.  
"I said sorry."

I glared at him.

"Don't look like that, Sarah," he said. "And don't 'hmph' either."

I frowned, preventing a 'hmph' from coming out of my mouth- he knew me too well.

After a while, I complained,  
"It hasn't stopped bleeding, and it's all wonky, and starting to swell."

Desmond sighed,  
"Hang on..."

I thought he was going to get an ice pack, but instead, he got out his mobile phone.  
"Yeah, Theo? I need you to come to my bar. N-no- can you do me a favour? Thanks. I'll tell you when you're there. No, it's nothing perverted, you jackass. Okay. Bye." He rolled his eyes, ending the call.  
"Theo," I said, glaring, "_Theo?"_

"Hey, don't look at me like that. He's a good guy," replied Desmond, "He's just a bit of a jerk if you don't know him well."

I continued my glare.  
"_Sarah._"  
"_Desmond._"  
He sighed impatiently.

* * *

Desmond led Theo into the apartment. Theo was wearing a black hooded coat, with a cream hoodie under than, and grey jeans. His hair was in a ponytail. He took a look at me, and sighed,

"What happened?" he asked.

"She tripped and fell."

Theo raised an eyebrow.

"She did!"  
Theo looked at me,

"Did you?" he asked.

I nodded.

"All right, then."  
He made his way over to me, and started examining my nose, kneeling in front of me. He lightly pulled away my hand, which was protecting my nose. He picked up the tissue, and dabbed my bloody nose a few times,

"It's broken," he told Desmond. He looked back at me- his dark eyes were kind,  
"Now. All doctors lie. They say it's not gonna hurt. But that's not true. It's gonna hurt a lot. You can hold my hand, if you like. "  
I gave him a confused stare,  
"What will?"  
"This."  
Scared, I quickly grabbed his hand as his other one took a firm grasp on my nose. In a sharp movement , my nose clicked, and a sudden pain attacked my face. I winced, squeezing Theo's hand. The spasms of pain lasted for a few moments, but the bleeding stopped. I released my hand, taking a few deep breaths through my nose. It hurt.

"You okay now?" he asked.

I nodded, "I think so."

He grinned, patting my head, before he looked at Desmond, "All done. Oh...and Bill says he wants Sarah back by twelve." He showed himself out.

"Oh shit," swore Desmond, looking at the clock, "I'd better take you back now."

I nod, nervously touching my nose.

* * *

Uncle Bill stood on the porch, his arms folded. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were dangerous.

_Oh no._

I hear Desmond mutter the same thing, and give him a nervous glance.

"And what made you think you could keep her overnight?"  
"Yeah, sorry. She fell asleep, I had a bar to look after, and most of the assassins were wasted."  
"You could have called," retorted Uncle Bill, "I could ha-"  
"Before you continue, I'd just like to ask why you're so bothered by the whole idea of me staying at Desmond's? At least I got up off my ass and did something, rather than sleep all day! Why do you have to question everything that happens?"  
"I could ask you the same thing."

The way my Uncle said it...the smugness and harshness he said it... It made me snap. I attempted to lash out at him, but Desmond caught me and pulled me back by my arms.

"That was uncalled for, Dad," commented Desmond, struggling to keep a hold of me.

"Yes..._it was_."

He said it as if another point was made. I glared at him fiercely, trying to get out of Desmond's hold.

"Calm down, Sparky," Desmond hissed in my ear. I relaxed slightly, resuming my glare, and baring my teeth.

"You've been meaning to say that for a long time, haven't you?" I spat, "It's been on the edge of your tongue for a while!"  
"So what if it has?"

I snarled at him.  
"Desmond," said Uncle Bill simply, "Let her go."

"What?" Desmond gave him a look that said: 'are you crazy?!'.

"Do it."

He released me.

"Hit me," instructed Uncle Bill."

I stared at him,  
"Huh?"  
"Hit me. It's what you want to do, isn't it? So do it."

I clenched my fist and swung it at the old man's face. But next I found myself on the floor.

"See, _this _is why I have to keep you here! Does this answer your question?" He said, from above me,"You're unprepared."

"So are you!"  
Now he would find himself on the floor, pinned down firmly. I felt him try to get up, but I proved to great a challenge to struggle against.  
"Think before you say, old man!" I yelled. I gave him a hard shove with my foot, and then ran into the house.

**Desmond**

Dad got up. I said nothing- just watched as he shifted his shoulders.  
"Don't look at me like that, Desmond," he said.  
"I'm really not sure what to make of what just happened," I said, folding my arms, "You shouldn't provoke her like that."

Dad didn't reply. He just sighed.

Shaun and Kirsty came outside before we could go in,  
"What just happened?" asked Shaun.  
"Sarah just stormed in," said Kirsty.  
"It's all hell wherever she walks," they said in unison. They narrowed their eyes at each other, before looking at Dad and I for answers.  
"Let us in," I said, "And we'll tell you."

The two stepped aside, one on both sides of the door, to let us through.

* * *

After explaining the recent events, Shaun and the others sat in silence- also unsure what to make in the situation.  
"Where is she?" asked Damien.  
"I don't know," replied Shaun,"I saw her come in...but I didn't see where she went."  
"In her room, maybe?" suggested Anna.  
"I doubt it," said Diego, "I've noticed she barely goes up there in the daytime."  
"Guys," said Kirsty, "Maybe we should actually get off our butts and look?"  
"Good plan," said Damien.

**Sarah**

I hid, at the top of the tall apple tree. There was a ledge that Uncle Bill and my dad had built there. I pulled the branches to hide myself, and it somehow made me a lovely little nest. I knew I could cry up here without anyone knowing where I was.

_Why was I so annoyed? What's wrong? Did Uncle Bill's words hurt that much?_

Yes. They did. But they were true. That's why they hurt.

I take a shaky breath through my tears.

_Seriously, Sarah. You're emotionally unstable. You cry every time something upsets you. _

You're right. I am. But have you got any solutions, genius?

_..._

Yeah, thought not.

I lay down on my back on the platform, taking deep breaths with my face in my hands. Then suddenly I was in another world. Confused, I took my hands away from my face, sitting up, and looking around.

Golden lettering and symbols flashed in the air. The ground was almost transparent, but it had dusting of gold. I stand up, and ready myself for what was coming. The Apple of Eden had taken my mind elsewhere. That meant one thing- Juno wanted something.

She appeared, but said nothing. I frowned at her,  
"What do you want?" I asked. I meant to say it harshly, but it came out soft.

"Your assistance."

"Be more suspific."

"You wish to destroy the Templars, yes? You kill, yet you still want there to be peace. You hate war. You hate the fighting, the massacres, the bloodshed that's happened after all these years. You've lost loved ones to one kind of people. And you want them to be wiped out."  
I nod slowly,  
"You haven't answered my question fully," I say.

"I can help you, if you help me."

I set her with a doubting stare,  
"But you only do something if it benefits you! You made Desmond kill Lucy because she was a distraction."

"No, he chose to kill the woman. I gave him a choice. He could've resisted, but he didn't. And not because she was a distraction. She was a saboteur. A triple agent, if you will. She was only going to take the Apple for these Templars."  
"No!" I cried, "Lucy wouldn't..."  
"She would and she was. But now, she is gone. Going back on the subject... I can help you wipe out the Templars."

"How?"

"If I'm freed."

"How will that kill of _all _Templars?"

"I am powerful. I can wipe out continent by continent, if I wished. But I will not. I only wish to be freed from this place."  
Juno gestured to the atmosphere around us.

I stay silent.

"If you need help convincing, then I will show you want they did to you."  
Before I could yell in protest, I was in a burned room. There were burned tables, and chairs, and paper. All around me, there were the bodies of my classmates and I gasp.

Then I freeze as I see the body of my best friend. I immediately rush to her, kneeling down. One of her arms were outstretched, and she had burns all over her face. But she wasn't blackened, like some of the other burnt corpses. Kate had died of suffocation.

She could have made it out alive. She wasn't too far from the door.

"Kate!" I kneel down next to her, picking her up, and looking at her face, which was plastered with the expression of fear. _She had been terrified when the fire..._

I hug her close, feeling tears streak my cheeks.

_Not again...Not here. Don't show weakness in front of Juno..._

But it's so real..._  
_

"Oh my God, Katie, I'm so sorry," I mutter in to her strawberry-blonde hair. It no longer smelled of violets, like it usually did. It smelled of smoke. Teachers often got Katie and I mixed up. She was only slightly taller than me, but we were similar sizes, our accents were similar, our hair was the same length- we even looked alike. "This was all my fault!"

I hug her closer, crying into her hair.

"_I will take you to another place, now."_

The scene changes, and I wipe my eyes, only to realize that I would cry harder. The next place was Abstergo. And the body was the body of a petite woman with blonde hair and wide blue eyes, with her neck a bloody mess. I gawp at her for a few moments, before kneeling beside her.

_I don't remember much of my mother. Gosh, she's so pretty...and not very old..._

My hand lightly brushes her eyes closed, and then strokes her hair. Tears flood freely from my eyes, as I fail to control myself. Suddenly, scenes flash in my head. Lost memories of my mother returning. This only made my sobbing worsen.

The scene changed once again.

I knew this one too well.

Dad.

I immediately run and hug his body, which was cold. His eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted. His shirt was soaked with a patch of blood. I take a few breaths, actually succeeding in controlling my emotions.

_I did it, Daddy. I controlled my emotions._

That was it. Juno and I were back where we started. I fiercely wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.  
"See what the Templars have done to you and those you loved?" said Juno, "The only way for this to stop, is to destroy the organisation called the Templars. And the only way to do that, is to free me."  
"How do I free you?" I asked.  
"Simple."

She took me to another place, but something told me I was actually there. We were in a huge vault. There was a blue glow to the place. In the center was a pedestal with a futuristic blue globe.  
"All you have to do is touch the pedestal."  
"You're serious, right?"  
Juno nodded.  
I sighed,  
"There's a catch, isn't there?"  
"No. There is not."  
I couldn't help but see the energetic look in her eyes.

"Juno!" snapped a voice. Another woman came into view- Minerva- "You are trying again? But with the girl this time?"

Juno said nothing, but the energy in her eyes faded into hatred. Minerva looked at me,  
"You are too important," she said, "You must not touch the pedestal!"  
"Why?" I asked.  
"It will burn you from the inside. It will kill you, only that she would be freed. She already tried to kill Desmond this way."  
"She did?" I look at Juno, who fails to catch either mine or Minerva's eyes.  
"Yes. But Desmond was smart enough to find another way to save the world. Otherwise he would be dead and the world would be enslaved by _her._"

Then suddenly...I was back in the tree. I sat there, unsure of what just happened. I had the feeling that I had after waking up, but I knew I hadn't been asleep.

_What the living fuck just happened?_


	18. Discoveries

"Hey, there ya are," came a voice. I slowly propped my head up, to see a friendly dark-skinned face and fluffy dark hair. "Thought I saw someone up here."  
"Dammy," I mumbled, my voice sounding sleepy. I reached out for him, hugging him.  
"Are you okay?" he asked.  
"Mm."  
"You've been crying. I can tell," he tilted his head, "Why?"  
"I-I can't tell."

"Aw, why not?"

I stayed silent, lightly resting my head on his shoulder.

"Sarah, something's wrong, isn't it?"

I still remain silent. Damien sighs, and pets my hair.

"Hey, Dammy?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Do you have any other family? Y'know, other than Diego?"

Damien stayed quiet for a moment, before he said,

"Yes. I have my Uncle."

"So no parents?"

"No."

There was another few moments of silence. From the house I could hear the familiar yelling of father and son and I groaned. _They never shut up, do they? It's just constant arguing about my safety, where I'd be better at, how much danger I was in. _It was so annoying.

"It sucks, doesn't it?" I mutter,"To have lost your parents."  
"Yeah. I guess it does."

Again- silence.

"You still haven't told me what's wrong," piped up Damien.  
"I know."

He chuckled quietly,  
"Yes- then tell me...?"

I groan,  
"I don't wanna..."

I feel him blow a sigh into my hair,

"All right. You don't have to tell me."

"Mm, thank you."

"Welcome. Should we get down now?"

I looked up at him, giving him a slightly panicked stare,  
"You're not going to tell where my hiding place is?"

"No."

"Cross your heart!"

He did so, saying,  
"Cross my heart, hope to die, nothing is true, everything is permitted."

I let out a small laugh,  
"Nice touch at the end," I said. I reached up and ruffled his hair playfully. He shook his head under my hand like a dog, and I laugh again.

"C'mon," he said, starting to climb down. I follow.

* * *

"Where were you?" Uncle Bill snapped. I stand there, just staring at him. "Well?"  
I shrug, and take a seat on the sofa.

"Don't think I'm going to let this go."  
"I know," I replied.

"Well...? Answer my question."

Again, I shrug, and that seemed to annoy him. He began to interrogate me to the point where I could stand it no longer. I shot up, glaring at him,  
"Why can't the fact that I'm safe and well just satisfy you?! " I yelled, "God, you're a persistent little bugger, aren't ya!"

Shaun turned from his laptop. The look on his face said:_ Oh, you did not just say that_. I glanced around at everyone's actions. Kirsty was biting her lip, looking away. Rebecca was quickly tapping on a keyboard, Anna was sat on a chair reading a book, but the elderly lady looked as though she was ready to step in. Damien slowly slid next to me, ready to grab me if I tried to attack, and Diego sat behind me on the sofa, sipping a mug, and looking the other way.

My vision focuses again on Uncle Bill, who was returning the sharp look.  
"And do you know why that is?" he says, his voice even. I just keep my glare set. That's his answer. "Because I'm concerned about you. Of course I'm going to flip out if you go missing for a period of time! You're family, and I love you! I promised your dad I would keep you safe, and that's what I've been trying to do the past few months! You're too naive and arrogant to see this!"

My glare weakens, as I suddenly feel a sudden gush of guilt. I feel my cheeks redden but I'm not sure if in embarrassment, or anger. Or both.

_I've been naive and arrogant. I've been like Altair. I've just been thinking of myself. I hadn't had the chance to consider why Uncle Bill was always so strict and stone-faced. Now that I knew, it was like a slap in the face._

A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my trance,  
"Look. Maybe you'd be better at Desmond's bar," said Uncle Bill. His tone was now quiet, and even soft.

I swallow, and nod. I start to nervously bite on my thumbnail, and I turn to run upstairs. On my way up, I spotted Desmond standing by the doorway to the kitchen. He nods once at his father, and gives him a small smile.

_I close my bedroom door._

* * *

I was woken by a sharp screeching noise. My head spun, and I began to feel disoriented. I tried to block the noise out, but it soon proved impossible for me to do so.  
With my head hammering, I follow the noise down the stairs and to the set of draws Shaun kept the Apple in. There were tiny lines of golden light peeking from the third draw. I open it, and suddenly there was a big burst of light. A strange sensation fills me- a sort of warmth...that burned...but it didn't. A warmth that made me feel powerful. I stare at the golden ball in my hand, trying to listen to it, but I couldn't tell what it was saying.

_Off._

The Apple relaxed.

I place it back in the draws, and head back up the stairs, hoping to get more sleep.

* * *

I sat at the dining table, sleepily chewing on some Nutella-drenched toast. I had a mug of tea next to my plate.  
"Sarah," says Desmond. I look up,  
"Hnn?"  
"Say the word 'wrong'?"  
"Um...Okay...Wrong."  
He snickered,  
"Wrong," he mimicked, in my accent. I frowned at him,  
"Hey!"  
"You don't pronounce the 'R' in words!"  
"Well, you pronounce the letter 'O' like an 'A'!"  
"No I don't."  
"Yes you do. Say 'Connor'."  
"Conn- Oh crap, you're right!"  
I grin. He smirks,  
"_Connor_."  
"_Wrong._"  
"C-ahh-nor."  
"Wh-ong."  
"Car-nor.  
"Wo-ong."

"Sarah?" Shaun looked up from his newspaper, "Where are you from?"  
I roll my eyes,  
"England," I replied, "C'mon, Shaun, you of all people-"  
"-Yeah, yeah. Just what _part _of England?"  
"Why?"  
"Cause' I'm trying to figure out your accent.  
"I'd say London!" called Anna from the sofa.  
"Nah!" I replied.

Diego and Desmond, at the same time, sat backwards on a chair, and stared at me carefully. I tried not to laugh at how serious they both looked.  
"Cockney?" suggested Diego.  
"I ain't some Cok'ey folk!" I roll my eyes, "Really! At least I speak proper English!"  
"Sorry..."  
"I know! Manchester!" said Desmond.

"OH DEAR GOD, DESMOND. NO." I frown at all of them, "I'm from the South West of England! Why do you not know that, Desmond? You're my cousin! You should know where I'm from!"

"But then you'd have a Somerset or Devon accent," said Shaun, sounding a bit confused, "You'd sound like a farmer."

"Pssh. Stereotypes."

"WhatdidImiss?" mumbled Damien, coming in through the front door.  
"Lots," everyone says in unison.

Damien groaned loudly, before stealing a piece of toast from his brother's plate. Diego stopped his hand and the two had some kind of conversation with their eyes.

Anna chuckled.

* * *

"Um...Becca?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it all right if I go in the Animus?"

She stared at me,  
"Really, Sparks? You wanna go in the Animus? Any reason?"  
"I don't really know much about these Connor and Haytham guys."

She smirked,  
"That's okay. It's only natural that you'd want to know about them. Hop in. But mind- Baby's had an update, so that means..."  
"Needles?" I sigh.

"Yep. Got it in one."  
I groan, "fine."

I carefully lie myself down on the orange seat.  
"This is gonna hurt only a little," Rebecca said.  
"Don't lie to me."  
She laughed.

I drew in a sharp breath, as a needle makes contact with my skin. A tight stinging attacks my arm, and I wince.  
"It's okay," assured Rebecca.  
My vision blanked out, and I'm surrounded by whiteness. I knew what to do. I run. And run. And run some more. Until a new scene appeared, and I'm someone else.

_I'm wearing a royal blue cape, and a white scruff on my neck, tied together with a red ribbon. There's a sword on my hip, as well as a pistol. _

_There was a man with me. He wore a guard's outfit._

The door is locked.  
"It's locked," I tell Connor. "Give me a moment."  
I gathered my equipment needed to pick the lock, and got to work. There was a few moment's silence, before Connor said,  
"Must be strange for you- discovering my existence as you have."

I shrugged,  
"I'm actually curious to know what your mother might have said about me." I grunted, as my fingers slip, " I've always wondered what life might have been like, had she an I stayed together. How is she, by the way?"

I didn't get the answer I expected, or wanted.

"Dead," replied Connor, his voice flat, "Murdered."

I look up from the lock and stare at him.

_Poor Haytham. _

"What?" I blink, unsure what to make of what my son had just said. I felt something break inside me. It was if my heart was being squeezed by the claw of an eagle, "W...I'm sorry to hear that..."  
"Oh, you're _sorry?" _attacked Connor,

_Oooh, sassy Connor. _

"I found my mother burning alive. I'll never forget her face as she sent me away! Charles Lee is responsible for her death, by your order! And you're 'sorry'?"

I was confused; bewildered,  
"That's impossible," I protest, "I gave no such order- I spoke the opposite, in fact. I told them to give up the search for the precursory- We were to focus on the more practical pursuit-"  
"- It is done," cuts in Connor, "And I am all out of forgiveness."  
I'm pushed out of the way.

_My vision blurs again and suddenly I'm back in the living room.  
_"Welcome back," greeted Rebecca. My hand goes to my head. "You okay, Sparks?"  
"Yeah..." I smiled at her reassuringly. I shake my stinging hand, "Ow, ow, ow!"  
"Yeah...that's gonna hurt for a while. You might want to get a Band Aid on that."  
"Good idea!"

I run to the kitchen, my socks making my slide around on the kitchen floor. I giggled, distracted from my task of getting a plaster, and continued to slide around.

"You're having fun," said Desmond, coming in from the garden. "Ahh, childhood."

My hand suddenly protests, and I remember why I was in the kitchen,  
"Oh yeah," I muttered, "Hey, Desmond? Can ya get a plas- I mean, a Band Aid down from the cupboard? I'm too small to reach."  
"Couldn't you climb up there?" teased Desmond, heading over to a set of cupboards.  
"No. Your dad would complain."  
"He sure would."

He reached for a box of Band Aids, and pulls out a small one,  
"Here ya go."  
"Thank you, Desmond!" I took it from him, unwrapped it, and placed it where the needle had been. "Ouch!"  
"Oh, just to let you know," said Desmond, "You're moving in with me tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow?" I gasped.  
"Yup."  
"Did Uncle Bill...?"  
"Yeah."  
I stare blankly at the tiles on the floor for a few moments.

"Okay," I say, after a while. Desmond ruffled my hair,  
"You excited?"

"Meh," I shrug.

Desmond laughed, before heading back into the garden.

* * *

I was sat on the sofa, staring at the blank TV. I was bored.

Then suddenly an idea came to mind.

_Eagle Vision. _

Maybe I should try it...but how do I turn it on?

I imagined a lever in my head, and then I pulled it. The room dulled, and I looked around. Shaun was lit up blueish colour. Desmond was, as well.

_Awesome! How do I turn it off. _

I tried pulling the imaginary lever but it was stuck.

_Shit._

I rushed over to Desmond,

"Desmond! Desmond! Desmond!" I cried, panicking.  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
"How do you turn it off?"  
He tilted his head,

"What do you mean?"  
"Turn off the colours…the eagle vision-sense thingy?!" I winced, "I don't like it!"  
"Use your head. Just kinda think."  
I gave him a hard stare. I couldn't really tell his expression through the bright colours.  
"I've tried that, what else ya' got?"

"Uh, okay, try thinking of a switch. And it's on, and that's what got the sense on."

"Okay, now what?"

"Switch it off."

I did what was suggested, and it worked.

Relieved, I dramatically fell the ground, pressing my face to floor,  
"THANK GOD."

Diego entered the room,  
"Um," he said, "Why…why is Sarah...?"  
"I'm not dead, by the way" I mumbled from the floor, "Just asleep. Shh."  
"Oh, all right then." I could almost hear the roll of his eyes. My mood dropped for that tiny reason, and I sat up,

"Oh, I'm sorry, Your Royal _Hindy_-ness, would rather I ask permission to do stupid crap in my own home?"  
"I'd prefer a warning."  
"Would you like a warning saying that I'm about to punch you in the face?"

I step towards him, my fists clenched.

"You try punching me, you're gonna lose the ability to–"  
"-Oh-ho-kay," cut in Desmond, pushing us apart, "Ladies, please."  
I glare at the Spanish man, as he glares at me back.


	19. Jace

**A/N Apologies for not really updating this as often as I use to..**

**Gees, how many times have I said this in my Author's Notes? But really, I'm sorry. I haven't been in the greatest mood lately, so I've TRIED to stay away from the internet.**

**TRIED. **

**Well, I guess that's what happens when you people don't review. **

**Oh, and if any of you are interested in the anime Hellsing, I'm writing a fanfic for it. It's currently on my Deviantart account. When starts to behave, I'll upload it to here, all righty? **

* * *

"You ready, kiddo?"  
Someone shook my shoulder. I replied with a groan, and turned over in my bed, hugging the covers tighter, "Nnnggg..."  
"Sarah, c'mon. It's like nine."

"I_ knnnoowww._.."

"The get up."

"Nnnngggg!"

I shrieked as I was scooped up with the covers still on,  
"Desmond!" I cried, "PUT. ME. DOWN!"  
"No."

He began to carry me downstairs.

"DESMOND!"

"Are you gonna get up?"

"Yes!"

"Good girl," he put me down, ad petted my head, "Go get dressed and pack your stuff."

"Hmph." I headed towards my bedroom.

* * *

After getting dressed, I dragged my backpack out of the corner of my room. I sighed, remembering that the last time I had to use it is when Dad and I were escaping from England.

_"Dad.." I asked, "Are...are you hiding things from me?"_  
_There's silence._

_"Dad? Stop...stop the car..."_

_"WHAT?" he snapped, pulling over to the side of the road. He gives me an intense stare, "What? What do you want to know? For all we know, we could be dead soon! Why do you want me to pull over?"_  
_"I...Dad-"_  
_"-Just shut up, Sarah, shut up."_

_He starts to drive again. I notice the signs on the way- Bristol Airport, three miles._  
_"Airport?" I say._  
_Again, Dad stays silent._

I sigh out loud, putting a pair of knickers into the black sack. Dad had a short temper. I remember that. He never once went out of hand, though. He never laid a hand on me.

Unlike _someone._

_Ugh. Don't think about it..._

I unconsciously fiddled with the pockets of my bag. I became a bit more alert as I felt several round, cold items. Money. I pulled them out, and smiled- I had myself a handful of English coins. Three one pound coins, one two pound coin, three fifty pence, and two five pence.

"You done?" called a voice from outside my door.

_"You done?"_

_Dad knocked impatiently on the door of the toilets.  
_

_"Yeah...one sec-"  
"We don't have 'one second'!"_

"Yeah, I'm done!"

Desmond opened the door, and stood against the frame,  
"Come on, then."

He quickly shuffled down the stairs, and I followed.  
"Taking Sarah to mine!"

He held the front door open for me.  
"You don't know how weird that sounds- Ow." I rubbed the back of my head, frowning at him as I headed to the car.

* * *

"Here we are!"

We walked into Desmond's apartment. As always, it smelled of Desmond, and stale deodorant.

_Huh. I lived here now._

"Spare bedroom that-a-way," he pointed at a door, "That's your room."

"Okay," I replied, going in the direction of his pointed finger.

It was much smaller than my room at Uncle Bill's. It only just fit a single bed and a chest of drawers. I haul my bag off my shoulder and place it on the bed.

"Well..." I muttered, "Here I am."  
I take a deep breath through my nose. I rub my forehead lightly, and trailed my hand down the bridge of my nose, and then I pinched it. It was a focus trick Dad taught me. _Hang on a minute. Why am I suddenly remembering all this stuff about Dad?_

I glance at Desmond, who was making himself a hot drink at the kitchen unit.

_Could it have something to do with the fact that Desmond had been acting a little too protective over me lately? Or maybe because I'd had a go at the Apple the other day, and that triggered some kind of memory sequences in my head..._

"Doing that focus thing?"

I look at the owner of the voice, my hand still pinching the bridge of my nose,  
"Hmm...? Yeah..."  
"I remember Altair doing it quite often."  
"Really?"  
"Mm."

He comes closer,

"Look..." Desmond places a hand on my shoulder. I shoot him a worried look- Desmond had a serious face. "Hey, don't look at me like that."  
"Then how should I look at you?" I asked him.

"...Never mind that. The thing is...Dad's trusting me to keep you saf-"  
"-you've always done a better job than he did!"  
"Sarah."  
"Sorry."  
"All I'm asking is that you don't go wandering off without telling me."

I frowned at him,

"Desmond. You really sound like Dad."

Desmond sighed,  
"I know...I don't want it to be a bad thing."

"Give Desmond back."

"Huh?"

"Evil spirit- Give Desmond back!" I grinned. He smirked, catching on,  
"Never! You'll have to catch me first...!"  
I made a lunge for him, but he dodged out of my way. We played a little game of tag, darting to and fro, clambering on the sofa and coffee table. Desmond was acting very immature. But then again, so was I.

Eventually, we collapsed on the floor, laughing, out of breath.

"Well that was fun," said Desmond.

"Heh, yeah." I laugh again, sitting up. Desmond glanced at his watch and swore under his breath,

"Let's go down to the bar. It's my shift..."  
I groaned.  
"You can stay up here, if ya like."  
"Please."  
"Okay. feel free to watch TV, or help yourself to stuff in the fridge."

I nodded, as he headed out the door

* * *

_Three days later._

"Watch the bar for me, please. I need to take a -"  
"Too much info, Desmond."  
He smirked.

Desmond went out to use the bathroom, leaving me alone behind the bar.

My attention was caught as a man came and sat down at the bar. He was odd- he wore some kind of murky brown uniform, as if he were some kind of mercenary, and he had dark brown hair, layered, and about a fourth way down his back. His skin was tanned.

His face squinted in pain- he was injured. Brownish red could be seen on his uniform.. On his head, he wore a tatty brown fedora with a small feather stuck into it.

You would have thought he was from the past, if it were not for the big black headphones hung around his neck.

Then I remembered- he was a regular customer at the bar. Jace.

Even so, I called him 'sir'.

"Sir..." I said, standing up, alarmed, "Sir, are you all right?"  
He laughed.  
"You don't have to call me 'Sir', kid," he said, with a slight French accent.  
"You don't have to call me 'Kid', Sir."

He smirked,  
"Then what do I call you?"  
"Sarah. What do I call you?"  
"Jace. Jace Fletcher."  
"You're hurt, Jace." I pointed at the wet blood on his shirt.

"It's...it's nothing."  
"What happened?" I asked.  
"Those...

"Templars?"

"Where's the bartender?" he asked.  
"Bathroom."  
"No, I'm not," Desmond. He stared at Jace. "Jace! What the hell happened to you?"

"T-Templars."  
"C'mon, I'll help you..." He led Jace down the corridor, and up the stairs to the apartment. I followed. Desmond took out a box from a cupboard, and took out bandages, plasters, and antiseptic cream.

"Why doesn't she stay at William's?" Jace asked.

Desmond looked at me for permission to tell. I nodded.  
"Dad struck her. "  
Jace blinked,  
"Really? William did that?"

Desmond nodded.

What surprised me most is how Desmond knew how to do first aid. I suppose he was taught when he was at the Farm.

"So what happened?" he asked, once he'd finished attending to Jace's wound.  
"The team was instructed to infiltrate that Abstergo building. But, as it turns out, they were well prepared. It was easier, seeing as Cross is dead, but there were way too many of em'. Nearly had a knife stuck right into my ribs. We had to abort. I came here cos' it was the nearest place to get help."

"Wait, " I said, "You mean Desmond's bar is like some kinda of Bureau for other members of the Order?"  
"Yeah," replied Jace.

So that means Desmond's like Malik. I laughed quietly at the thought.

Jace stretched.  
"Buddy, you stay here for a while," said Desmond, "No doubt the bastards will be looking for ya."  
"Is it safe here?"  
"Yeah. A couple of mates come here every night or so, some of which are cops, and we have a few lookouts who sit around, so don't worry."  
"Thanks." He quickly hugged Desmond.

"Hey, Jace?" I said.  
"Yeah?"  
"Where are you from?"  
"America, obviously. But my Father was French, and that was the language my family spoke to each other."  
"Ahh, Okay."  
_Was._

Usually, when other Assassins were describing their parents who'd passed they'd say 'was' instead of 'is'. This guy's parents were most likely dead. Like most of the Order.

I stared at the French-American carefully.  
"What?" he asked, once he'd caught me staring.  
"You're strange."  
He laughed his strange laugh again,  
"Yeah, I get that," he chuckled. "Although, you're pretty strange yourself, kid."  
"How?"  
"Well, you look like you've had years of experience. It doesn't really suit that pretty little face of yours. And also, is that Desmond's top?"

I looked down. I was wearing my cousin's shirt.  
"Yeah...Okay, I see your point, Frenchman."

He stretched back on his chair,  
"I'm glad you do."

"Why do you look like a mercenary?" I asked.

"The...team and I...We get hired by other companies that loathe Abstergo to kill them in groups. We wear the clothing of mercenaries because as you know, killing is illegal. So we have ID's that say we're legal mercenaries, and we dress to match our role. Just in case we get into trouble."

"Why is your hair in a plait?"

"It keeps it out of the way."

"Why is it long?"

He frowned at me,  
"You're annoying."

"Thank you!" I grinned.

Desmond started washing his hands in the kitchen sink.

"So you're a Novice, then, girl?" grunted Jace, stretching is legs.

"No!" I said, "I'm not a Novi-"

"-You're a Novice, Sarah," cut in Desmond, "Just so you know, for future terms.

"W-what?!" I folded my arms, "Hmph!"

"Don't act so childish."

I glared at Desmond.  
"Wow, a sudden mood change," commented Jace, chuckling. "Is it always like that here?"

"Yeah," replied Desmond.

* * *

Desmond wouldn't stop poking me, and it became annoying. Jace was entertained by this. He sat there, smirking, as I waved Desmond's hand away.  
"Stop it!" I yelled.  
"Nope." He poked me again.

"All right, then. You asked for it, Miles!"

I shoved him over.  
"Oh, so it's a wrestling match you're asking for, is it, Gratton?" He stood up,"Hit me with your best shot!"

I charged into him, slamming my shoulder into his chest.  
"Ow," we said in unison.  
"Bony," hissed Desmond.  
"Fatty."  
"Touche."

He grabbed my arm and literally _flipped _me to the ground. My head whacked against the floor. Jace clapped, laughing,  
"Aw, you poor, unfortunate girl," he said.  
"Shut it, you!" I snapped, trying to wriggle out of Desmond's hold. He remained pinning me, grinning like an idiot. I managed to knee him in the stomach, and roll back up again. I sent a punch to his arm, and then to his collar. I got a hold of his arm, and bent it in the way it wasn't supposed to. Desmond fell to his knees, gasping.  
"T-that's no fair!"

I smirked, bending it further.

"All right, all right! You win!"

I let his arm go.

Jace was laughing,  
"Haha!" he chuckled, "When my injury heals, I'll have a go, and we'll see if you're worthy of beating a _true assassin._"  
"Hey!" complained Desmond.


	20. Bonding

"_Jaaacee..._" I groaned, "Your hair is messy and it's starting to annoy me."  
"Well that's because I've been sleeping on a couch for the last few days. What do you suggest I do?"

"I could plait it?"

He gave me a doubting look,  
"Really?"  
"Please! Can I?"

He sighed,  
"All right then. But if you tug too hard, I'm not going to let you do it."  
"Okey-doke!"

He sat on the floor in front of the sofa, and I sat on the sofa. Taking my hairbrush, I de-knotted the masses of brown hair, and sorted it out into three separate bits. I put the grubby hairband on my wrist for later use. Concentrating hard, I began to weave the three locks of hair together, brushing out any knots in the way.

"Aww," cooed Desmond, "Isn't that cute?"

Jace and I shot him a death glare- Desmond backed away.

Eventually, I'd finished. I didn't do half bad.

"There you go," I said, proud of my work. Jace patted the plait.  
"Nice work," he praised. He turned around and patted my head, "_Sparky._"

I frowned,  
"Why can't that wound of yours heal any quicker?" I asked, "I want to beat your ass now!"

Jace laughed,

"All in good time, mon amie. All in good time."

* * *

Desmond was exhausted the next day. He'd been down at the bar all night, so he was pretty out of the whole waking-up-before-twelve thing.

"Hey, Des...?"

I poked the sleeping man in the bed. He responded with a Neanderthal-like groan,  
"Nnnng..?"

"I brought you some coffee."

He raised his head from the pillows, and looked sleepily at the mug in my hand,  
"Thanks," he muttered, taking it, and setting in down onto his bedside table. He then flopped, face-first, back into the pillows. I laughed quietly, exiting his room, and shutting his door.

Immediately after, I turned to Jace,  
"I'm bored," I declared.  
"Congrats."  
"How's that wound of yours?"

"You're only asking so you can try to beat my ass. I'll tell you this- I'm not yet fit enough to fight."

I lightly nudged his arm with my forehead, groaning,  
"But I'm _bored_.."

It was clear that he was slightly alarmed by my gesture, but he ruffled my hair,  
"And so am I," he replied.

"Any ideas on what to do?"

"Hm. Not really. Well," he yawned, "I'm gonna have nap."

I frowned,  
"You do that. I'll just be bored by myself."

* * *

**Jace**

"Jace." I was prodded a few times. I took a breath through my nose, and opened my heavy lids. A pair of wide hazel eyes were looking intensely at me. "Jace."

"Hnnn...what is it?" I didn't like to be bothered when I was sleeping.  
"Desmond's gone out...and he just wanted me to tell you when you wake up. You were asleep, so..."  
I groaned, "And when did he leave?"  
The girl smirked,  
"Just now," she said. I groaned again. "If you want to continue sleeping, then I-"  
"Tais-toi," I barked,"You know once I'm awake, I can't fall back asleep." I stretched my legs.

She bit her lip,  
"Not sure if you're...kinda joking, or telling me off..."  
I gave her a hard stare,

"Do I look like I'm joking to you?"

"You look like you're pissed."

"Well that's because I am."

"Why?"

"You woke me up."

"And? What's the problem?"

I frowned, as she grinned._ She was trying to confuse me._

"I'm not falling for your games," I said.

"Damn," she said. "A real shame, y'know that?"

"Not sure if being sarcastic or ...just you."

"A bit of both, dear Frenchman."  
She headed to the kitchen unit, and started making herself a hot drink. By the smell- coffee. I yawned and stretched again.

"So what are you?" she asked, sitting on the floor in front of me with a mug.  
"Hm..?"  
"What are you? What is this 'team' of yours, your position...?"  
"Why are _you _interested?"  
"I dunno. I just am. Tell me."

I sighed,  
"Uh, okay fine. I'm the Alpha, or the leader, of a team of Assassins called 'the Pack'."  
"Ahh!" she said, "I see! Alpha- Omega-Pack. Wolfy things!"

"Yeah...Wolfy things," I smiled, "Anyway. I'm the Alpha of the Pack, and ...well...we take part in missions and ...stuff..."

"Pfft. 'And stuff'. How unprofessional. And an Alpha? At your age? You're, what? -Twenty? Twenty-three?"  
"Twenty-four," I replied, "And you're one to talk, asking me all these questions, and complaining. How old are you? Like, twelve?"

"Oh, tais-toi," she frowned.

"Oh, so you _do _speak French." I smirked.

"Only a little. I was forced to do French at my old schools. Three and-a-bit years of French."

"And your teachers tell you to 'shut up' a lot?"

"No, not me...Others, yes, but not me."  
"I'm surprised."  
"Hey!"

There was a silence for a few moments.  
"Am I your friend?" she asked. I shrugged,

"I suppose. Friend or cousin of Desmond, friend of mine."

"Why is it like that?"

"Like what?"

Why are all the assassins so...close...?"

"Well..." I thought about how to word my answer, "It's like family. We stick up for each other at times of need. Even if we don't really like each other. But you...you're a likeable little girl. So basically anyone would want to protect you." Shit. That came out wrong.  
"All right, that...that just sounds weird."

I laughed,  
"Ha-ha! What I mean is...other assassins are easily willing to protect you. "  
"Oh, okay." Sarah smirked.

She turned to put her half-empty mug back onto the unit, when I stopped her,  
"Hey, wait a minute," I said, "What...how did'ya get that?" I pointed at the scar along her neck that was a couple of inches long. Like someone had drawn a knife across her throat. Bill didn't...  
"Oh...some bastard did that to me not so long ago..."  
"So not William?"

She gave me a fierce glare,  
"No! Of course not! He's my bloody Uncle, for God's sake, Jace! Why would he do something like that?!"

I nudged my hand on the bruise on her cheek.  
"Oh. Right," she said. "I get your point. But he only hit me wouldn't do it again...he wouldn't...he..."

She was getting upset. Her eyes began to well up. She sat down on the floor, and hugged her knees, breathing deeply.  
"You all right?" I asked, reaching for her shoulder, "Hey...hey- kid..."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and grunted.

"Sarah..." I sighed, "You've really been in the wars, haven't you?"  
"Yeah, well...you've been in the actual war," she muttered against her knees. I chuckled,  
"Yep. Hey...c'mon, cheer up!"  
"I don't wanna."

I came up with something,  
"Will the fact that you might be able to try and kick my ass tomorrow cheer you up?"  
"No," Sarah muttered, "It's the fact that I _will_ kick your ass tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N How you guys liking Jace? :3**

**Remember to leave them reviews.**

**Translations:**

**Mon amie- My friend.**

**Tais-Toi- Shut up. **


	21. Ass-kicking

**Sarah**

Jace sighed, putting the phone down.

"Huh?" I stared at him carefully, "What's up?"

"Hourglass business. Hastings has kidnapped Miles."

"How long is he gonna be away?"

"Nnn...he said about a week. Maybe two. So until then, the bar is only accessible to the assassins and family." He smirked, "He says he doesn't trust me with a few hundred gallons of alcohol."

"So you're going to have to babysit me, then?" I asked. He nodded, heading over to the kitchen unit. I grinned.

"You are going to behave," he said, looking up from making a coffee with a frown, "You got me?"

I nodded,  
"Of course, Frenchman." I paused, "Can I kick your ass, now?"

"Mm...later."

I groaned,  
"Meanie," I said.

"Hey, be nice, Jeune Fille. Desmond says I have to look after you till' he gets back. So behave."

I scowled.

* * *

Jace invited a couple of Pack members around. I expected them to be noisy, rude, and sick minded. Okay, so they were sick minded, but they were actually very nice people- well, aside from the fact they liked to annoy me, and tease me about my height.  
"Surely _you _can't be the direct descendent of Ratohnhake:ton!" exclaimed Alfie, "He was big, buff and native! You're teeny, thin and English!"

I felt my cheeks go crimson,  
"Well...he lived about three hundred years ago...and things change...so yeah..."

"How old are you?" smirked Scott, "Twelve? And you're what? Slightly less than five foot? Jesus..."

"Hey, hey, hey," cut in Jace, grinning like an idiot, "Don't be mean to Jeune Fille...a person is a person. No matter what their height is."

They all burst into barks of louder.

"Bloody mercenaries," I mutter. "_Jaaace_? Can I kick your ass now? Please?"

"Not now, my little Jeune Fille."

"Why?"

"Who cares why? I just don't feel like it."

"Hmph."

"What's this about a midget taking down Jace?" piped up Alfie, "Yeah, I'd like to see you try. None of use can do it."

"Ahh," said Jace, "But this one's special."

"Special my ass." He stood up, and got into a ready-to-fight position, "Come on!" He stepped forward to attack me, but a second later, he smacked his head on the floor, groaning. I grinned sweetly at him.

* * *

_Two days later._

I woke up, late at night, to loud laughter. There was a bunch of three men in the garden, being very loud and noisy. They were either high as fuck, or drunk, or bored.

_What the heck were they doing there? It was three in the morning_!

"Oi!" I called, "You're not supposed to be here!"  
"Sorry, kiddo, didn't catch that!" replied one of them. I approached them, frowning.

I smelled the strong smell of alcohol. Oh, so those jackasses were drunk, huh?  
"You're not supposed to be here. Now piss off."  
"Ooh!" another mocked,"You hear that? We're not supposed to be here- well, news for you, you little British cunt, we can do whatever the fuck we want!"

He earned what was coming to him. I slammed my foot up between his middle. He yelled out, and his companions made a swipe for me, but I swerved away from their drunken lunges. I was almost successful. A gush of air blew out of me as I felt a fist pound my stomach several times, before my arms were held behind my back.

"Nice try," smirked the groups 'leader'. "Say...you're nice one, aren't ya? A few scars here n' there, but still a nice un'."

He looked at the members of his group and they exchanged grins.

_Oh no. They weren't...they..._

_Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT._ They were!

I wriggled in attempt to get free, but I just felt like a fish caught on a hook. I kicked my legs about, but my try was just as good as a fly's caught in a spider's web.

"_Let me go_!" I shrieked. They barked with laughter, going for my clothing.  
"Hey! Assholes!" someone shouted. I didn't recognise whose voice it was, and one of the perverted sods were blocking my view of the door leading back into the main building,  
"And what do you want?" demanded the leader."Fuck off! Can't you see we're busy?!"  
"Leave 'err alone!" snapped an angry French accent._ Jace._

I was roughly thrown to the ground, and watched as Jace... Well... Beat the shit out of the other men. They retreated when he pulled out a handgun. Jace even shot where their feet were to make them run faster.

The long-haired Frenchman pulled me up from the ground, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, walking me back into the bar.  
"Your poor girl," he muttered, once we were inside, "No one should ever experience something like that."

I whimpered in response, feeling tears dribble down my face. Jace made a noise of half-pity, half-comfort,

"All right... All right..." he comforted, tightening his grip around my shoulders, "You're a brave girl- I know that..."

He now hugged me properly, and gently smoothed my ruffled hair.

"Hey, do you want to sleep in with me tonight?" he asked.  
I nodded slowly, wiping my eyes.

* * *

Later the next morning, I heard Jace on the phone to Desmond,  
"_What do you mean? Jace? What happened?"_

"These fucking douches were in the garden and they went for Sarah."

"_By 'went' you mean...?"  
_Jace swallowed,_  
_

"Yeah."

"_Ah, fuck! Is she okay? Did they...did they...?"_

"No."

_"Christ, thank God."_

* * *

Another day passed, and I couldn't stop thinking about what happened that night. Those fucking perves... my stomach churned at the thought of them. I tried to think of other things, but I couldn't.

Jace had Scott round so they could try to cheer me up. Scott was really funny- he could pull the weirdest faces-, and he and Jace were the perfect pair. They synced their jokes together, and gave each other told the most interesting stories about them fighting in Afghanistan, and small, unknown wars.

"And _that's _how I got the scar on my dic-" started Scott.

"-Ubupbupbup!" cut in Jace, "Not in front of the kid."

I was grateful for their attempts to cheer me up, so I put on a smile for them. To be honest, they were actually quite funny. So I sat, listened and laughed at the two idiots.

* * *

**A/N **

**Jeune Fille- you would call an unmarried young girl this. It's the French equivalent to the German 'Fraulein'. **


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